Forgotten Not Forgiven
by Digitallace
Summary: H/D slash. Malfoy always did have an odd way of going after what he wanted.
1. The Suite Life

Authors Note: As more stories wind down I'm getting around to posting my new WIP stories. This one has about 13 chapters mapped out so far, and still going. Many thanks to my lovely beta, Laurel. She's swell. As always you can join my yahoo group to see the art created for this story as well get updates and contribute to upcoming stories. You can find the info on my profile. (Warning: Het relationships and sexual references in the first several chapters of this story)

The Suite Life

Dressed in a modest navy wool coat with her thick red hair tucked into her favorite Pucci scarf, Ginny Weasley walked into the lobby of the Baglioni hotel in Hyde Park. She completely bypassed the reception desk and made her way to the lift where her perfectly manicured finger pressed the glowing gold number six, jolting the contraption to life. She'd always had a bit of claustrophobia and hated the lifts, but she had already walked several blocks to the hotel in order to avoid having her magical signature tracked, so the stairs were out of the question. Her shiny patent Manolo's were already making her feet ache.

There was no one in the corridor when she emerged, so she walked quickly down the hall to suite 604 and knocked sharply, but found the door give under the weight of her hand. She pushed it open and stepped inside, marveling at the gilded room before securing and locking the door behind her. She'd been to this hotel on several occasions and it seemed they were given a different suite each time, each more spectacular than the last, which she was sure was due to her lover's talent with the subtle persuasion of people in a position to meet his various needs.

"It doesn't seem very safe leaving the front door open like that," she called out when she noticed the bathroom was occupied.

The room had a lovely view of London, beautiful old buildings and crisp green trees lined ancient city streets. She had always loved London and was so happy she had talked Harry into moving here. The entire city felt alive with a magic outside of what she possessed with her wand waving.

Every wall was either striped with gold and tan wallpaper or covered in a shimmering metallic finish that reflected the afternoon sun through the enormous windows. The room was well furnished and as she made her way around, letting her fingertips glide along luxurious fabrics and rich woods. She eventually found herself standing in a separate bedchamber with a tufted headboard that went all the way to the ceiling and a bed that could easily fit ten times the amount of people that would be using it that day.

"You went all out this time," she called out, hoping he could hear her through the door.

"Anything for you love, you know that," came a sultry voice from behind her. She whirled around to find her lover standing in the doorway with only a chocolate brown towel draped around his fit body. It left little to the imagination, but then there wasn't anything Ginny hadn't seen before. His pale skin still glistened with water droplets as he stalked toward her, his eyes looking hungry and feral.

"No popping the buttons off this time," she warned. She undid the first two clasps herself, exposing the fact that all she wore under the coat was lacy undergarments. She had a thin, almost boyish figure, but she knew he liked that about her. He was always complimenting her on how fit she looked in this or that.

With practiced ease he divested Ginny of her bulky coat and immediately removed the garters holding up her sheer black stockings, before long she found his nimble fingers had also taken off her bra. Smooth hands traced her skin and raised gooseflesh on her arms and she melted into the touch.

"Oh Draco," she whispered as the man started kissing her neck. Her entire body shuddered when the blonde's careful hands rubbed across her thighs and she could feel him smile against her cheek, never straying too close to her lips. It was one of his rules –never kiss on the lips. Draco claimed that a person could have sex without getting attached so long as they never kissed. Ginny thought it was a loose theory at best but she played along because she had grown addicted to these trysts with Draco Malfoy.

"Tell me about Potter," he requested softly against he ear. She rarely denied the man anything, but she loathed that Draco always wanted to bring up Harry during their lovemaking. Draco had no idea that Harry would disapprove of their times together, she had told him months ago that Harry was fully aware of her dalliances –going so far as to say they had an open relationship- even though that was a blatant lie. She assumed he was only checking that everything was okay and that the world's best Auror and most prestigious hero wouldn't be after him, but it was hard to think of what he actions might be doing to Harry when his name was brought up.

"He's fine," she moaned as Draco did something particularly nice with his tongue. He hesitated then and Ginny knew she would have to give him more information before he would give her more pleasure. "He's at the office," she amended. "He's been a bit stressed lately because he and Ron are fighting for the Head Auror position."

Her insight was rewarded with more shudder-inducing foreplay before Draco paused again. "And what are you doing to relieve this stress?" he asked calmly, blonde locks blocking her view of his eyes.

"Nothing. He won't let me touch him," she muttered.

"Good," he replied softly and she loved that he was so possessive of her.

Draco smiled down at her with his charming smirk and threw her to the mattress before he made all of the world fade away around her in a fuzzy landscape of orgasmic bliss.

------------------------------------------------------------------

After nearly two decades embedded in the wizarding world, Harry had begun to hate certain muggle things –'hate' might be an extreme way of putting it- but Harry had certainly lost his taste for them. One thing in particular he stopped liking was muggle liquor.

Magical spirits, like Elvin wine and fire whiskey, never burned his throat the same way that muggle alcohol did. It wasn't even as if he _should_ be drinking at two in the afternoon on a work day, but an anonymous tip had come in that one of the Carrow's could be found at the Brunello lounge that afternoon and the bartender refused to let him sit there without ordering something.

At first he found the idea of being forced to buy a drink in order to linger inside a public establishment a bit obnoxious, but after a moment Harry was forced to admit that he could probably use a drink after the day he'd had so far. In fact, part of him was tempted to just reserve a room in the connected hotel, but no doubt Ginny would come across the bill somehow and accuse him of cheating on her when nothing could be further from the truth.

She'd grown increasingly paranoid about his fidelity in the last year or so of their marriage, though Harry hardly felt he could blame her for it entirely. He rarely touched her anymore, often retiring to bed long before she did and feigning sleep is she finally came to bed before he was able to drift off. It had been easy to avoid her; the hard part was trying to figure out why he wanted to. Sure the pressures at work were building and he really was constantly exhausted, but there was a time when Ginny and he used to be very intimate –wasn't there?

The answer to that was a booming 'no' and it only served to make Harry that much more depressed. He and Ginny had a whirlwind courtship, swept up in the media buzz after the war and pushed into a hasty yet elaborate wedding the following year. They were in love, or so Harry thought at the time, but later he had realized that everyone –including himself- used the wedding to glaze over their mourning for the family and friends lost in the war.

He did love Ginny, she was beautiful and effervescent, but their repeated failure to have children took a toll on both of them. His wife longed for a large family as much as he did, but years of trying had produced no results. It was shortly after that when Harry realized that he had grown out of his attraction toward Ginny. It wasn't that he had been attracted to anyone else instead, nor would he act on it even if he had, but, even though he still loved his wife, Harry couldn't seem to muster up the effort _make_ love to her. Soon after that began the accusations that he was cheating, which he wasn't, and then Ron began growing irrationally angry with him over it. Ginny constantly vented to Ron about her suspicions and after awhile it seemed Ron started to believe her, which created havoc for their personal relationship.

The worst of it occurred when Ron announced he was putting his name in the hat for Head Auror after Harry had already been promised the position; making a mess out of mundane office politics. Now they were both in the running for it and part of Harry just wanted to give in and let Ron have it, but the rest of him knew how badly his friend would muck things up if he were to become Head Auror, not to mention the hell that Ron would put him through if Harry were to become his subordinate.

Ron's mind was never really in the game, he only joined to stay close to Harry, back when they were still inseparable friends. Now things were tense at work and tense at home in the evenings, all Harry had to look forward to was a quick wank in the privacy of his bedroom before Ginny joined him and he was forced to pretend to be asleep. Torture; his life had become sheer torture, which made the straight muggle scotch in his hand not taste so bad after all.

Harry swirled the amber liquid around in his glass, watching the rings in made on the sides when a familiar figure walked across his line of vision. He looked up and recognized the sapphire and lime Pucci scarf he had given Ginny for her birthday two years before and took off after it.

He couldn't see the telltale ginger hair beneath it, but he knew that scarf and thought he recognized the deep blue trench coat the woman wore as well. Other than the garments obviously belonging to his wife, it didn't make sense. Why was Ginny leaving a hotel in Hyde Park when her office was on the other side of Regents?

"Ginny!" Harry called out, leaving his unfinished drink and tossing some money on the table before hurrying after her.

She was several paces ahead of him on the sidewalk and when Harry called her name again she didn't even flinch, but ignored him outright. He had nearly caught up with her when the woman ducked into a tube station heading south. Harry paused, utterly confused, but sure that it couldn't have been his wife because not only would she be headed north, but she had never ridden the tube in her life and thought the mode of transportation quite unnecessary for a witch.

With a sigh Harry returned to the hotel lounge to wait out his target for a little while longer. Thinking of his wife and their rough times must have made him delusional, but she had seemed so familiar.

"Back again are we?" the bartender asked upon Harry's return. He took the same seat and was a tad annoyed to find out that the man had already tossed his drink, so he ordered another.

"Do you know that woman?" the barkeep asked, clearly he had witnessed the whole display and wanted to have a jab at Harry's expense.

"Thought I did," Harry replied sullenly.

"She comes 'round here all the time. Such an odd name, I'll never forget it," the man mused and Harry's heart sunk a little bit. He'd started wondering if Ginny's recent paranoia was because she herself was up to something unseemly, but he just couldn't imagine his wife stepping out on him with another man. She was more dignified than that, and he knew that she would at least be honest and ask for a divorce before she slept around on him. But at the bartender's words Harry's heart seemed to stop, because Ginevra, which is what she often went by in public these days, was indeed an odd name.

"What's he name?" Harry asked softly, dreading the answer. He made a mental note to go home and check the vault record for transactions made to muggle hotels.

"Hermione," the man answered with a laugh. "Have you heard anything so interesting? She's really quite a beauty that one."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and the bartender passed him his drink. So his wife wasn't cheating on him, which was good news for sure, but unfortunately his good news came as bad news for someone else.

It was no wonder he recognized the scarf, Ginny must have loaned it to Hermione –they were best friends after all. It made perfect sense that Harry felt the woman was so familiar because it was Hermione, one of his oldest friends and confidants. But how could she be cheating on Ron?

Perhaps it was only a business meeting, he tried to convince himself, and there was no need to go jumping to conclusions. Just because _his_ marriage was in the shitter didn't mean Ron and Hermione's was too. He'd just need to ask her and see what was what, and if it turned out to be true, he'd have to plead to her sense of reason and get her to stop. No matter how many times he and Ron feuded, Harry still cared about them both and he wouldn't see their lives torn apart by infidelity.

With a heavy sigh, Harry downed the rest of his drink in one go and left the bar, assuming his anonymous tip had been a wild goose chase and headed home where he dreaded his next encounter with Ginny.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny slipped out of bed while Draco was in the shower. She always felt a bit guilty right afterward, especially since her blonde lover refused to simply lounge in bed with her or even hold her for a moment. "Time is money," he always said and leapt up to bathe the sticky grime that their coital exchange created.

She sighed and adjusted her coat to make sure nothing was visible underneath –somehow her bra had gotten lost in the room and she didn't want to be there when Draco reemerged from the bathroom so she didn't take the time to look for it.

When she finally stepped into the lift her heart began to ache; she was developing feelings for the cold man she had just shared her body with, but it was the guilt she felt about what she was doing to her husband that was nearly unbearable. She'd make it all better by being the model wife for Harry when he got home though. She kept meaning to tell him, let him make the decision to leave her or not, but every time she left Draco she assured herself it would be the last time. But then he would floo her at the office, his voice a perfect tenor, and ask her to his hotel room and she never refused.

It was wrong, she knew that, but Harry was so distant and he never wanted her anymore so she assumed he was doing the same. Maybe they had just grown tired of one another and this was what marriages usually came to, maybe her secret rendezvous with Draco weren't so abnormal after all.

When she stepped into the lobby she veered toward the lounge. She needed a drink to clear her head and she remembered the bartender from other afternoons she'd spent in the bar directly after her time in Draco's bed. The man was nice and flirtatious but not overly so, which made her feel better, less dirty and more worthy of Harry's love. When she rounded the corner to the lounge however her heart nearly froze in her chest.

There at the bar -staring at his drink- was her husband.

What the hell was he doing there? His office was nowhere near the hotel and neither was hers, which was why she and Draco selected it in the first place. Time stood still as she wondered what to do. He hadn't seen her yet and if she was sure, if she was careful, she could just slip through the exit unnoticed. Unfortunately, she wasn't careful enough and as she walked quickly passed she caught Harry's reflection in the exit windows staring right at her.

She heard her name being called and couldn't resist the pull to look back, but thankfully, Harry had turned to pay for his drink and didn't see her face. She walked as fast as her expensive shoes would carry her until she heard Harry's voice call her again; this time she was clever enough not to turn around. She kept her pace, swiftly rounding the corner and running any excuse she could think of through her mind for when Harry caught up to her –she didn't expect to get away- he was an Auror after all and used to pursuits.

"Oh, sweetie, I didn't hear you back there. Yes, I had a meeting here in hotel conference room," she thought to herself and rolled her eyes at the idiocy. "I was going for a walk in the park and got lost, just stopped in there for directions," she tried again, but nearly screamed at how bad a liar she was. She'd have to ask Draco how he became so good at it next time.

_Next time._

The thought almost made her stop and turn herself in right then; it would have been the perfect opportunity to tell Harry the truth. But it seemed fate intervened and she was offered an exit as she spotted the entrance to a Tube station, somewhere she felt certain that her husband wouldn't follow her. "I love you, Harry," she whispered under her breath and made a beeline for the southern train.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs as she boarded alone. Harry has turned back just as she suspected and as soon as the train stopped next she disembarked and walked as fast as she could to the nearest alleyway. The thrill she always got when apparating flowed through her and a moment later she was looking up at the lovely town home she shared with Harry. Fear coursed through her veins as she turned her key in the lock and hoped to Merlin that Harry hadn't come back to their home to check on her -something like that would be just like her hero husband- but thankfully all that greeted her entrance was silence.

Quickly she mounted the stairs up to their bedroom and rushed to change, finding a new bra to replace her lost one and stashing her coat and scarf into the far reaches of her closet. She wouldn't be able to wear them again any time soon –if ever again. Her heart was still racing as she slid into a somber skirt and blouse and raced back downstairs to the fireplace so she could floo back to the office in case Harry checked on her there instead.

It took nearly an hour for her pulse to settle after her close call with Harry, and even then she still worried that she might have forgotten something or left some kind of invisible clue that she couldn't spot, but Harry would. Even though he was a trained Auror –the best really- Harry seemed quite oblivious when it came to her and she was sure he and she was sure he wouldn't catch on, so she tried not to dwell on it too much.

She waited until just past six and apparated home to find Harry sitting on the sofa with a Quidditch magazine. When he looked up she beamed at him and she could tell he was studying her outfit before smiling back at her.

"Honey, I'm home," she announced formally and blew him a kiss before heading off to the kitchen to start dinner and thank her lucky stars for the close call.

-------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: One of these days I'm going to write a story that makes you all like Ginny. You'll see... lol


	2. Just One More Time

Authors Note: I love my beta Laurel, who is fabulous and kind (even when she's kicking my arse into gear)

Chapter 2 Just One More Time

Another day, another routine.

Harry sat at the kitchen island jabbing at his eggs while his wife scurried into the room as she tried to secure her earrings without snagging her flaming red hair. It was the same every morning; Harry would wake early, read _The Prophet_ over tea and once finished he would go upstairs and wake Ginny before coming back down to make breakfast. He usually preferred to eat a hot meal at breakfast, but for his wife he only made cereal because she was always running late and rarely had the time for more than that; some mornings she would forego breakfast altogether and simply kiss Harry on the cheek before rushing out the door. It looked like it was going to be one of those mornings.

Dressed in a chocolate brown skirt suit and a flashy red blouse to match her hair color, Ginny looked ready for a fancy dinner more than a day at the office. When she grabbed her coat and scarf from the back of the chair in the entry hall it reminded Harry of the woman he'd seen the day before leaving the hotel. "Hey Gin?" he asked, setting aside his fork and plate. He wasn't particularly hungry today for some reason.

"Yes, love?" she answered, though she didn't give him her full attention as she slipped into her matching brown coat.

"Did you loan one of your scarves to Hermione?" he asked.

"I loan her lots of clothing, Harry," she replied. "She never has any time to do shopping of her own."

"But what about that green and navy scarf I got you, I thought it was your favorite, did you loan that one to her?" he prodded. Harry really wanted as much valid information as he could get for when he confronted Hermione about her affair.

But the question caused Ginny to pale and Harry narrowed her eyes. "Gin," he began, his voice dropping into an accusatory octave. "Is there something you want to tell me about yesterday and that scarf?"

"I-I" she stammered. " No, I mean… I'm not sure what you're talking about, Harry." She rubbed lightly at her nose –a clear indicator that she was lying to him- and tried to turn toward the door. "I'm going to be late, can we talk about this later?"

Harry's hand was on her elbow within moments, keeping her from fleeing. "Tell me, Gin. I promise I won't be mad. You two are so close it only makes sense."

She leaned her head into Harry's shoulder and sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I should have told you ages ago."

Slightly taken aback by the sudden outburst, Harry patted his wife on the back and whispered soothingly in her ear. "It's okay. I mean, it wasn't as if I asked you about it directly, and it was probably best I didn't know."

She looked up at him, tears spilling from her golden eyes and Harry dabbed at them lightly with the bottom of his tie. "So what now?" she asked meekly.

"Now I confront her about it. I can't have one of my best friends cheating on her husband. That's not how marriages work," he informed her. "Hermione needs to stop before Ron finds out. It would kill him if he found out. I mean just think of what it would do to you if I slept around, or vice versa. Marriages don't survive that kind of dishonesty."

Ginny shuddered in his arms. "Oh, Harry," she sobbed once more, burying her head against his neck.

"I know," he sighed. "But I could never imagine you doing that to me. You and I are forever," he whispered, even though sometimes he didn't feel that way. She was still his wife and Harry didn't believe in divorce; you worked through your problems unless the problems were bigger than the marriage, and so far Harry hadn't come across any problem he couldn't solve.

"I have to go, Harry," Ginny told him. "Are you talking to her today?"

Harry nodded. "I'm going to take her to lunch I think. I'll tell her then."

"Could you not mention that I told you?" she asked, still wiping at her eyes. Harry hated to see his wife upset and he knew that Hermione's friendship meant the world to her. It would be easy enough to confront her with the evidence he had without letting her know about Ginny's admission. It only made sense that Hermione told Gin about her extracurricular activities. They told each other everything.

With a sigh Harry waved goodbye to his wife and went back to the kitchen to throw away his uneaten food before flooing to the Ministry to start yet another mundane workday.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It has to stop, it has to stop, it has to stop," Ginny chastised herself during the entire three block journey to her office. Her whole body shook with the adrenaline of another near hit. Harry was catching on, and even though he had somehow spun himself in the wrong direction, at this rate there was no doubt he would catch her. Even this morning she almost blurted out a confession when she thought he was on to her. How he came up with the ludicrous idea that it was Hermione he saw in the street she had no idea, but at least it would buy her some time to get her act together. Harry wasn't usually chatty with strangers but the only thing she could think of is that someone from the hotel staff told him the name she'd been giving since her afternoon trysts with Draco had begun.

She needed to floo Draco and tell him that it was over, then she would have to warn Hermione of what Harry suspected. Her friend was clueless to what she did in her off hours, so Ginny wasn't worried that Hermione might let something slip, but she didn't want her to be on the wrong end of Harry's interrogation squad either.

As she opened the glass door to the building lobby Ginny had resolved to make herself the perfect wife that Harry deserved. She would do the right thing before she destroyed her husband.

"Welcome to the Quibbler, may I help- oh, Mrs. Potter, it's you," began the new receptionist at the office. "I didn't recognize you at first."

"It's fine," Ginny replied, and it was. She rarely came this way to get to her office, but she thought a walk to clear her head might do her some good that particular morning. "Do I have any messages?" she asked.

The secretary offered her a pile of notes, each a different garish color and smiled sweetly. The girl was young, but then they all seemed to be getting younger these days while, Ginny merely felt like she got old and boring. The only excitement in her life was her steamy trysts with Galleonaire Draco Malfoy. She sighed and flipped through the messages on her way to her desk and stopped mid-stride when she spotted a name scribbled on a violet parchment; _'Draco Malfoy'_. The name burned into her retinas and caused her breathing to hitch. He always did that to her and just the sight of his name made her legs go wobbly. It wasn't the first time he had contacted her at the office –at least not through proper channels- but it was the first time he had done so since they started sleeping together.

She remembered well her dismay at being assigned to interview the man she now called 'lover'. It was early on in her career at the Quibbler, long before her promotion to Associate Editor and back when she was still just a rookie journalist. She had no clout to be able to refuse the interview so she went, dressed as nicely as she could so that he wouldn't be able to poke fun at her wealth, or lack thereof. She had met him in the lounge of a nightclub that he had owned at the time and she still remembered the look on his face when he first laid eyes on her.

Draco had leered at her, ogling her long legs, then her trim waist and finally her pale cleavage before making it up to her face, or more importantly her hair. "Well, well, if it isn't the Weasel-ette," he mused and took a seat across from her.

Ginny had rolled her eyes and taken a seat as well. "Ginny," she corrected, but he only shook his head.

"No, Ginny is a nickname, and if you refuse my nickname for you then I'll refuse yours," he responded lightly, his trademark smirk in place.

"Then feel free to call me Mrs. Potter," she countered with her own smirk.

"Touché," he chuckled. "But no, I think I'll call you Ginevra."

She had always hated that name, but she refused to give him that kind of fuel against her so she simply nodded politely and took out her notepad. "So, rumor has it you called off your engagement to Astoria Greengrass," she had begun. "Any truth to those rumors?"

"Why, fancy a quick shag in the restroom?" he asked and she blushed furiously before holding her left hand aloft and wiggling her ring finger, which held a large sparkling diamond.

"Married, remember?" she noted.

"So," Draco scoffed. "Half the women I've bedded were married."

"Then maybe I should add that I'm _happily_ married, and for the record that's disgusting," she added with a frown.

"For the record, I don't care. I'm not the one cheating and who knows, perhaps one day when little Potter fails to please, you just might end up in my bed as well," he replied. "I wouldn't turn you away."

"How romantic," she mused sarcastically, but couldn't hide the blush coloring her cheeks. Malfoy was even better looking than he had been at Hogwarts and that was saying something. Even though nothing would ever come of it, she reasoned that there was no harm in a handsome man finding her attractive. "So, I assume since you're still sewing your seed elsewhere that the engagement is, in fact, broken."

"Yes," he had replied at last. "She caught me in bed with someone else and pitched quite the tantrum."

"I would do the same if I ever caught Harry with someone else," she huffed.

"Then make sure never to go home or pop by his office unexpectedly, sweetheart," he teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she hissed.

"Your husband has suitors for miles. There is no way he's turning all of that down, a man has needs after all," Draco replied.

"You're foul. Harry's an honest man, he would never cheat on me," she huffed.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," he muttered with a wave.

"This interview is over," she growled and got up to leave, but Malfoy had grabbed her by the waist and spun her to face him.

"You'll never get anywhere in this business without thicker skin," he whispered. "Sit down, finish the interview."

Her mind had screamed at her to get the hell out of there, but she knew he was right, and it certainly didn't hurt that his eyes had looked like stunning pools of liquid silver. "Fine," she huffed and went back to her seat. "So if Astoria wasn't the one, who is?"

"What, you mean my ideal match?" Draco asked; he smiled crookedly. "Well, they would have to be independently wealthy. I don't want a relationship with anyone who is in it for the money. Good looking, is also a must have," he started.

"So they're not allowed to be shallow, but you are?" she quipped.

"I'm in the public eye a lot, Ginevra. I need someone who can hold their own at my side, someone who will look equally dashing in the hundreds of pictures they snap of me and, of course, someone who looks fantastic naked," he added. "Besides, this is my fantasy, you don't get to judge."

"Fine, fine," she laughed and waved for him to continue.

"They have to be romantic, but not too sappy. They have to be nice, but also know when not to be. They have to be funny and clever and well, I suppose they just have to be perfect," Draco huffed. "I'm a tough sell."

"So I see," she noted. "Well, so far it seems the person best suited for you is my husband," she added with a laugh. "But I'm afraid he's off limits."

"No one is off limits to me, love, but no, I don't think Potter and I would be suitable companions," he remarked levelly.

"Because you're straight," she teased and he smiled slightly.

"There is that theory, also the fact that he's more popular than I am. I couldn't have that," he teased. The rest of the interview had actually gone surprisingly well. Malfoy had taunted and jabbed, but he'd stopped with the cruelty and it had reminded her of the rapport she had with her family, the twins especially. Because of this, she wasn't as taken aback by Draco's next comment, as she probably should have been. "I'm having and party this weekend, you and Potter should come," he offered.

"Harry's not much for crowds," she rebuked.

"Tell him to get out and have some fun. We only live once after all. Plus it's a charity event I hold every year, even Harry can't say no to the needy," he wagered.

"Harry could find a way to say no to anyone," Ginny replied. "But if I can get him to agree then we'll come," she promised.

"Use your feminine whiles, Ginevra. You can do it," he prompted with a wink and left the room. Ginny recalled how badly her heart was racing when he walked away and how much he had given her to think about. It had to have been a coincidence that Draco mentioned Harry cheating when she herself had been suspicious of that very thing for a few weeks already. He'd been distant and never seemed to want to be with her much anymore, in fact, she couldn't remember the last time they had made love. But no matter what Malfoy said, she knew deep down that Harry remained faithful to her.

Still, what Malfoy said about a man having needs rankled her slightly. Was Harry having his needs taken care of elsewhere and, if so, with whom?

"Alright, Gin?" a dreamy voice asked, pulling her out of her memory. She looked over to see Luna peering at her curiously.

"I'm fine," Ginny muttered.

"Are you sure? Because you've been standing here in the middle of the hall for nearly twenty minutes now," she replied.

Ginny blushed furiously and shrugged. "I got lost in thought I guess. Sorry."

"There must be some Kleadhoopers roaming around here. I'll call the exterminator at once. Those buggers are always causing people to lose focus," Luna resolved and headed toward her own office.

"Right," Ginny laughed to herself. "If only it was that simple."

By the time she reached her office, the glaring purple note had taken over all conscious thought. It was best to simply get it out of the way, she supposed. She threw a handful of floo powder into her private fireplace and summoned up the Manor. A house elf answered but went to fetch Draco who arrived a few moments later looking dapper as always.

"Ginevra, you look lovely," he announced. "May I come through, I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

She sighed and nodded, stepping back so that he could walk through the green flames. He dusted his shoulders off and sat down in the chair across from her desk. It was going to be much harder breaking things off with him while he was there in person.

"So, what did you need?" she asked, wanting to get that bit over with so she could move onto the breaking up.

"You and Potter," he told her and she cringed. "You two were such a hit at last years fundraiser, I could really use that kind of publicity again," he admitted.

"That might be awkward," she muttered.

"Why?" he asked, looking sincerely curious.

"Well, you're my lover and Harry's my husband and well…" she paused, gesturing with her hands for him to get her point so that she didn't have to say anything more.

Instead he narrowed his eyes and leaned in closer. "You told me Potter knew about our arrangement."

"He does," she lied, "but he doesn't need his nose rubbed in it, now does he?" she remarked sharply. She had slept with Draco the first time out of despair and loneliness, but afterward Draco insisted that she tell Harry the truth. She assumed he didn't want to make it on the Auror's hit list, and she couldn't really blame him. In the end she had been too much of a coward to tell Harry the truth so she lied to Draco instead, telling him that he'd been right and that Harry had a mistress as well and that all would be fine –and who knows, she may have even been right.

"Well, we don't need to chat or anything, he could just make an appearance, have a few photos taken and be off," Draco reasoned.

"Listen, Draco," she began, and he took that moment to run the tip of his shoe up her stocking clad leg beneath the desk. Her eyes fluttered and she sighed at the touch, but quickly pushed her lust aside.

"We could go to the Manor for lunch and I could give you a brief tour," he offered seductively, and she knew exactly what he meant by 'tour'.

"I-I can't," she whispered.

"Come on, Ginevra," he cooed. "How about your place then."

"But Harry," she started, gasping when Draco kicked his shoe off and slipped his foot between her thighs.

"Harry won't need to know we were even there," he told her.

"Fine," she sighed, unable to resist him. "Meet me there at one. I'll talk to Harry tonight about the fundraiser."

"You're a doll," he complimented her and stood up. "I'll see you at one." He paused momentarily to put his shoe back on but was gone in a flash, having apparated right out of her office.

There was always tomorrow to break things off. One last fling wouldn't hurt anyone.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: I'm sure you all hate ginny, but just think about who is propositioning her for a moment... lol. Still, poor Harry


	3. Trouble with a Capital ‘T’

Author's Note: Thanks to my friend Laurel for her Beta work on this story

Chapter 3 Trouble with a Capital 'T'

Ginny sat on the edge of her bed staring at the floorboards while Draco showered. She desperately wanted to get him out of her house before Harry got home and found him there. Telling her husband that she'd been cheating on him with Draco was going to be difficult enough without the former Slytherin standing right there. The afternoon had been rushed; she'd been frantic to get her work done so that she could leave the office undisturbed. She hurried through a meeting with the editing team and even ate lunch as quickly as she could; all to prepare for her lunch date with Draco at her house.

In fact, the only thing that didn't seem rushed was Draco.

He arrived late, which was odd for him, and when he finally entered the house he wanted to tour the Potter family home. "So this is Potter's study?" he asked when they got to the second level of their cozy townhouse.

"Yes, but we shouldn't go in there," she warned. "It's where he goes to be alone."

Draco's eyebrows shot up, clearly intrigued. "Does he spend a lot of time alone?" he asked.

"He spends most nights in here, yes," she replied.

"I want to look around," he announced before slinking into the room. Ginny sighed and leaned against the doorjamb as Draco pilfered through the bookshelves and smiled at Harry's collection of Quidditch tomes and play manuals. Across from the bookshelves were large glass cabinets where Harry's brooms were displayed when he wasn't flying, though she hadn't seen him use any of them in quite some time. Between the two cases was Harry's desk, which was so littered with parchments and odds and ends that you couldn't see the rich wood surface.

"Who is this?" Draco asked, picking up a tiny framed portrait from Harry's desk. Ginny rounded the desk and leaned in to scrutinize the picture Draco was referring to. It was a tall man with sandy blonde hair that had his arm slung around Harry's shoulders. They were grinning at the camera and Harry looked a bit sloshed as he looked from his friend's face into that of the photographer.

"That's Allen," Ginny answered at last. It had taken her a moment to recognize him because she had never seen that particular picture before. "He was Harry's partner during Auror training."

"He wasn't paired up with Weasley then?" Draco asked curiously as he studied the photo further.

Ginny shook her head and looked across the desk, spotting a couple of other pictures of Allen. "No, Ron was a late entry to the program and Harry had already been partnered with Allen. He seemed nice enough, but Harry never talks to him anymore. I'm actually surprised to see so many pictures of him here. I assumed they had a falling out."

Draco didn't respond as he scanned the other pictures, one of Allen in full Quidditch gear, holding his broom, and the other was of Harry and Allen at what appeared to be a Ministry party of some sort. There was a photo of his and Ginny's wedding, as well as an old school photo of Ron, Harry and Hermione, and a large one of Teddy, Harry's godson, which Draco took several moments to admire.

"I haven't seen Theodore in a couple years," Draco admitted.

"Teddy stays here every other weekend," Ginny told him. "He's a bright kid."

"Did we already pass his room?" Draco asked, looking as if he were trying to recall a young boy's bedroom.

Ginny laughed and shook her head. "No, you would have remembered that. His bed is in the shape of a red dragon and the boy probably has a hundred other toys in there as well. Harry spoils that boy rotten."

With a cheeky grin, Draco pulled Ginny closer and kissed her cheek. "Show me where you and Potter sleep," he purred.

She laughed and pulled him along further down the hall to the master suite. "This is it," she announced, doing a little twirl before slipping her shirt over her head and lying on the bed.

"No pictures of you and the Mister in here?" he asked curiously.

Ginny frowned across at him and then nodded toward the nightstand on the other side of the bed. "Not of the two of us, but I keep one of Harry over there on my side."

Grinning like the cat that caught the canary, Draco moved closer to the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he did. "So your husband doesn't keep your photo by the bed, but he has so many pictures of his ex-partner lying around?"

"I assume you have a point?" she asked through pursed lips.

"It's just that you told me Potter was sleeping around too, but you never mentioned that it was with men," he teased, a wry grin twisting his face.

Ginny slapped his chest playfully. "Now that's just mean. I know you don't like him but there's no reason to call him gay."

Draco shrugged, but the look in his gray eyes said he wasn't joking.

"I'm serious," Ginny reprimanded. "Just because we're sleeping together doesn't give you the right to badmouth my husband. I swear to Merlin, Draco, if rumors questioning Harry's sexuality make it to the papers I'll know who to blame," she warned.

Draco lifted his arms in defense and stalked closer to her before pouncing and sending them both sliding across the bed.

The actual sex was a blur; Ginny couldn't help but notice that Draco wasn't focused on her as much. At first she contributed it to the fact that they were in a new place and perhaps he was as worried about getting caught as she was. But then she noticed that his eyes kept flicking up to the portrait she had on her nightstand and it was there, in fact, that Draco was looking when he climaxed.

"This competition between you two has got to end," she growled, throwing Draco off of her and covering her naked body with a sheet.

"What?" he asked, clearly confused, but perfectly comfortable sitting on the edge of the bed exposed.

"I saw you looking at that photo of Harry and I know what you're thinking," she huffed. His metallic eyes widened slightly, but she proceeded without letting him respond. "Are you only sleeping with me because I'm married to him?"

"You're being irrational, Ginevra. Where did this come from?" he asked calmly.

"You were always out to beat him in school, always wanting to compete and win against the Great Harry Potter. Is this just an extension of that? Do you think you're winning now? Does fucking his wife in our bedroom make you the victor in this game?" she snarled. She was angry, furious even, and she directed it for the first time ever toward Draco. It felt good to yell at him, he was her downfall after all; always popping up just when she'd convinced herself to be a good wife. There he was, her Pale Beauty, trying to whisk her away. It was bad enough that she was cheating on Harry, but to cheat on him with a man that was simply using her to get back at Harry for some old grudge?

"My sleeping with you has absolutely nothing to do with challenging Potter," he assured her. "How about I go take a shower and you cool off fora moment," he offered before sliding off the bed and padding toward the open doorway.

She'd been so preoccupied with her argument that she hadn't thought to deny him, and now there she sat, looking down at her bare feet, worrying that Harry might pop in at any moment.

"That bathroom is brilliant," Draco said as he towel-dried his hair.

"You like that?" she asked sweetly. "Harry designed it," she told him in a menacing tone.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If I wanted to enact some revenge on Potter by sleeping with his wife, wouldn't it be better if he actually _knew_ about it?"

Ginny sighed and fell back to the mattress. "Yes, I suppose so. I just-" she began, but she didn't have the words to explain why she felt so conflicted with Draco. He patted her on the knee before slipping into his discarded trousers and heading for the door.

"I should be off. We wouldn't want Potter to come home and see me here," he reasoned with a smirk. "Talk to him about the Fundraiser, okay?"

Ginny only had time to nod before Draco slipped out of the room. She listened to his footsteps all the way up the hall, down the stairs and heard the telltale click of the door as he shut it behind him. With a sigh she quickly dressed and flooed back to her office to finish out the rest of the day, wondering when she would get up enough Gryffindor courage to end her affair.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Harry paced his office before lunch trying to decide what the best way was to tell one best friend that he knew she was cheating on his other best friend. With a sigh he decided he'd best just get it over with and he walked downstairs to meet Hermione in the lobby. Her arms were laden with books that Harry took from her, in a gentlemanly manner, as soon as he arrived. "Did you think I would be boring?" he teased.

She blushed a bit and shook her head. "Of course not. I need to return all these to the library and thought we could swing by on the way to lunch."

"Sure thing," he replied, not sure what else to say for the moment. He usually felt comfortable and even chatty with Hermione, but today was different. Today he had to talk with her about a serious issue and he still had no idea how to broach it.

Harry was silent for most of their walk. Hermione told him about her latest case in the legal department and how she was beginning to suspect her client of being guilty, but didn't know what to do about it. Harry nearly laughed out lout at the irony of it and after they'd returned her vast selection of tomes to the library, he asked his question. "So how are you going to do it? How will you tell your client you think he's guilty of killing that woman?"

"I can't tell him," she hissed. "He's our client. He's hired us to help him and I can't just blab what I know, at least not until I take myself off of the case, which I'm doing this afternoon."

"What's the difference?" Harry replied, thoroughly confused.

"It would be like you telling an employee you think their wife is all wrong for them, which is totally against the rules, or you telling your friend that you don't think his wife is right for him, which isn't against the rules really but is still frowned upon, so it's still hard to talk about. But –"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted with a laugh. "You're babbling."

She blushed and shook her head. "Right. Do you understand what I mean though?"

"I think you're trying to say that a friend should tell you when you've messed up so that you don't do it again," Harry told her; though it wasn't her point at all it was certainly his.

"Er-" she replied, looking at Harry skeptically. "That's not really it, but-"

"Mione I know you've been cheating on Ron," Harry blurted and the pair stopped short on the sidewalk, still a block away from the café.

"What?" she shouted, her eyes narrowed and angry. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Harry sighed and stared at his shoes for a moment before taking a deep breath and proceeding. "I was doing surveillance at the Baglioni hotel last week and I saw you there."

"That's impossible. I've never been to that hotel in my life," she replied.

"I saw you, Hermione, and the bartender in the lounge identified you too, he said you're there all the time," Harry added, wishing he didn't have to get into so much detail and that she would simply come clean.

"I don't know who you saw, Harry, but I assure you it wasn't me. Ron and I are very happy together; I have no reason to have an affair," she explained tightly.

"Look, Mione I won't get mad and I won't tell Ron, it just has to stop, okay?" Harry begged. "I couldn't stand to see you two break up."

"_Harry,_" she bit out. "For the last time I'm not sleeping with anyone else. You're being ridiculous."

"Dammit, Mione. I saw you! You were wearing Ginny's scarf, the green and blue one I bought her. I even thought you were Ginny at first and I chased after you but you got away, and when I went back the bartender told me you came there all the time and your name was Hermione," Harry shouted, getting angry that Hermione continued to deny it, even though she'd clearly been found out.

"So you didn't see me," she reasoned bitterly. "And did you think there might be more than one woman in London named Hermione?"

"Now who's being ridiculous?!" Harry shouted. With a frustrated scream, Hermione turned to walk back to the Ministry building. "Hermione?"

"I'm not discussing this with you anymore, Harry," she called back to him, obviously perturbed.

"Will you stop?" he called after her.

"I can't stop what I never started!" she shouted back.

With a sigh, Harry sank against a nearby wall, ignoring the odd glances he got from people passing by. He had told her he wouldn't tell Ron, but she had sort of left him with no choice. If she wasn't going to stop, then Ron had to know. He would certainly want someone to tell him if Ginny were cheating on him.

With an exasperated sigh Harry Apparated within a few blocks of his house and slowly walked home. He didn't think he could muster up the energy to go back to work. As he rounded the corner of his block he saw a streak of blonde and looked across to see none other than Draco Malfoy crossing the street.

"Malfoy!" he shouted and the man turned toward him and smiled.

"Well, well if it isn't the famous Harry Potter," Draco greeted and walked over to clasp Harry's extended hand. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"I live here," Harry replied with a smile. "How about you? Sneaking off from your latest conquest?" he asked with a wink.

Draco chuckled adjusted his belt buckle. "Something like , did you get the invitation to the Fundraiser I'm holding this year?"

Harry blushed slightly and nodded. "Er, yeah. I don't think we can make it."

"Why not?" Draco asked. "You were such a draw last year, people will be expecting to see you."

"I'm not really a fan of those kinds of things," he muttered in reply.

Draco seemed to think of 'no' as a poor reply and obviously wouldn't take it as his final answer. He placed his hands squarely on both of Harry's shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. "I'll take it as a personal affront if you miss it. We had such a good time last year, didn't we?"

Harry nodded dumbly, unable to say more. It was true that he had spent a surprisingly comfortable few hours in Draco's company that night while his wife ran off trying to secure interviews with some of the other guests. It had been awkward at first, but slowly Harry realized that Malfoy was funny and adventurous and even a bit kinder than Harry had always thought.

"Alright, we'll go," Harry agreed at last and he knew it was the right decision when he saw Draco's warm smile.

"Good. Well, I should be off. See you at the Fundraiser," Draco told him and with a wave, he took off down the street.

The contentment he'd felt with Draco's camaraderie quickly faded as he remembered what he still had to do, and as he made his way to the townhouse, Harry's thoughts were completely distracted by it. He had no idea how he was going to tell Ron, the guy who was Best Man at his own wedding, that his own wife was sleeping with someone else. It wasn't fair for him to be the bearer of bad news, but someone had to do it, so it might as well be him. Upon arriving home, he went straight up to his bedroom to undress only to find it in disarray. The bedding was slung haphazardly across the mattress and one of the pillows was on the floor. "I could have sworn I made the bed this morning," Harry mused to himself before straightening it up, but eventually decided he must have forgotten.

By the time Ginny got home, Harry had worked himself into a lather about what he had to do and was in the middle of a floo call with Ron. "Honey?" she called out to him and Harry finished up quickly before pulling his head from the fire.

"I'm meeting Ron at The Admiral's Arms tonight," he told her after kissing her on the cheek.

"Oh? I thought we could talk a bit tonight," she replied, looking rather anxious.

"I really need to talk to Ron about something. Could it wait until I get home?" Harry asked.

"Er, sure," she sighed.

"Though, I might be out late," he mused thoughtfully, "How about now, do you want to talk quickly now?" he prodded.

"No!" she replied, almost shouting. "No, it can wait until tomorrow."

With a curious look and a shrug he kissed her on the cheek once more before headed toward the door. He paused in the doorway and turned to look at Ginny, who stood in the hall looking thoughtful. "Hey Gin, how would you tell someone you loved that you had an awful secret involving them?"

She gasped slightly and looked at Harry with wide eyes. "You're not telling Ron are you?"

Harry bit into his bottom lip and nodded. "I'll be late, don't wait up," he told her before she could protest and left to become the bearer of bad news.

Author's Note: So, will Harry tell Ron what he thinks Hermione's up to? Will Ginny fess up in time? And what the hell is Draco up to?


	4. Distance Makes the Heart Grow Farther

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her brilliant beta skills. Also, thanks to everyone who reviews. I know I'm not as responsive to every single one as I used to be, but if someone has questions I can answer I try and do so, but I do read and enjoy every single one, so thanks again! My loyal readers are who keep me posting so frequently.

Chapter 4 Distance Makes the Heart Grow Farther

After all these years, even through the fights and the tension, Harry and Ron still had a favorite Pub and they could go there to work through just about anything. Office politics were driving a wedge between the men and that on its own was difficult enough without adding to it the suspicious interrogations Harry got from his friend every time he left the office to run an errand. Ginny's accusations of unfaithfulness had paused as of late, but the seed had been sewn and Ron still had it in his head that Harry was stepping out on his sister. To be honest though, Harry didn't know whether Ron was angrier about his supposed cheating or because he had no idea who it might be with. Harry had a hunch it was the latter, although neither could be helped because he wasn't sleeping with anyone.

The tension between them just made what Harry had to do that much harder however, and as he ordered a pint of Beamish and sat down in their usual booth, he wasn't looking forward to the confrontation that was inevitably coming. Harry knew the Weasley temper more intimately than anyone and he knew the havoc it could wreak before rationality and logic finally sunk in.

Harry didn't know when everything had started to go so wrong. It wasn't just his friendship with Ron either, all of his relationships seemed to sour over the last couple of years. He and Ginny were more like roommates than husband and wife these days, and Hermione was now angry with him since he confronted her about her affair, but even before that he knew she had grown distant with him. The weekly Weasley dinners had become rather uncomfortable lately, too because his wife was very open with her mum about her life and by the time Molly knew her daughter's marriage was left wanting, so did the rest of the family. It could have been his mind playing tricks on him, but Harry swore that the entire Weasley family scrutinized his affectionate gestures –or lack thereof- toward his wife. It was rather intimidating to have a room full of redheads watching his every movement.

He and Ginny had been distant for a couple of year now, but even before that sex with her always had a purpose –trying to produce a child. Harry couldn't recall the last time he thought pleasurably about just being with his wife. Ginny was kind and thoughtful and very ambitious; all things Harry admired, and even though she was truly lovely, Harry didn't see her the way other men obviously did. Almost every time they went out shopping she turned heads, all but his apparently. Harry had no idea what was wrong with him and he was very close to seeking professional help on the matter. Perhaps when his relationship with Ginny was patched up, then the rest of it would fall into place as well and his life would get back to normal.

A glimpse of red towering over the other heads in the pub made Harry acutely aware that his friend had arrived. Ron wove his way to the back of the room where their booth was located and sat down across from Harry, who was taken aback by the haphazard grin on the redhead's face. Ron looked unusually happy, which just made Harry's news that much more difficult to give. He didn't want to be the bearer of bad news as it was, but to ruin his friend's good mood… maybe it could wait for one more afternoon. What would be the harm in that after all?

"I'm glad you Flooed, Harry. I have the best news!" Ron exclaimed brightly.

"I'm listening," Harry replied with an uncomfortable grin. He didn't know what was making his friend's face glow like that, but he knew he didn't want to be the end of that joy.

"Hermione's pregnant!" he announced proudly.

Harry's jaw dropped and his heart clenched painfully in his chest at the news. What should normally be the happiest of occasions was clouded over with thick gray storm clouds in Harry's mind. "That's… er… wonderful, mate," Harry responded at last.

Ron noticed his extreme lack of enthusiasm and lost part of his wide smile. "What's wrong, Harry? I thought you of all people would be happy for us. You know how long we've been trying."

"I know, and I _am_ happy for you," Harry started, "it's just…" He didn't know what to say, he wanted to keep the news from Ron now, let his friend remain blissfully ignorant of his wife's dalliances, maybe even now that she was pregnant Hermione would stop. But then, what if it wasn't Ron's child? What if it was the child of the person Hermione had been sleeping with? They had been trying unsuccessfully for years and now suddenly she was pregnant? It seemed like too much of a coincidence and his friend deserved to know if he was agreeing to raise another man's baby.

"Just what?" Ron asked, confusion marring his forehead with wrinkles.

"Just that I have some news for you, too," Harry admitted at last. "Although mine isn't good."

Ron sighed and nodded as if he knew what Harry was going to say. "Did you and Gin finally split?" he asked.

"What? No, why would you think that?" Harry demanded, somewhat on edge. His marriage wasn't perfect but did his best friend really think he would simply give up on it?

"Hermione and I have been discussing it for awhile now. You two are just on different pages, we think you'd both be happier with other people," Ron reasoned dispassionately.

"Like who?" Harry hissed.

"Like whoever it is you two are seeing," Ron scoffed. "Hermione suspects Gin's been sleeping with someone else, and we all know that you have been."

"I. Have. Not," Harry barked for the hundredth time. "I don't know why my best friends won't believe me, but I have never _ever_ cheated on Ginny."

"Harry, would you just stop with that. Don't you think your spouse would know if you're cheating?" Ron argued.

"Maybe you should stop studying my relationship and look at your own!" Harry blurted, unable to contain the news within his mounting anger.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the redhead demanded with narrowed eyes.

"It means that I asked you here so that I could tell you that I caught Hermione cheating on _you, _you great Prat!" he replied with a growl.

"What?! That's ridiculous," Ron shouted. "You're just jealous that we're having a baby and you and my sister aren't even having sex anymore!"

"I'm not jealous!" Harry announced. Sure he wanted a family of his own, but just because he didn't have one didn't mean he would begrudge his best friends having one. He'd love to have a little niece or nephew to spoil like he did Teddy.

"Whatever you say, Harry," Ron spat, his tone thick with sarcasm.

"I'm serious, Ron," he replied. "I saw her leaving a Muggle hotel and the bartender says she's there all the time."

"No. I don't believe it," Ron countered with a shake of his head. "Mione would never do that to me."

"Oh, but you think your sister would cheat on me?" Harry argued.

"Hermione thinks so, yes," Ron replied with a huff.

"Maybe that's because she recognizes the signs," Harry retorted coldly. He could no longer sit there and listen to Ron disparage him and his relationship when he wouldn't listen to the truth about his own marriage. Accusing him of cheating and now Ginny too, what was Ron thinking? Harry got up from the table, leaving his pint half full, and stared at his friend in pity. "Maybe you should check the baby's paternity before you go making assumptions about my life."

With that, Harry turned and left the pub. It was the first time either of them had left the place in anger and possibly the last time he would even meet his friend there. He couldn't believe how badly things had spiraled between them over the years, but he couldn't force Ron to listen to him. As he walked the uneven cobblestone streets back toward his house he thought over his argument with Ron and couldn't help but feel like the rubbish best friend he was for delivering the terrible news to Ron so harshly. With every step he took the anger of his friend's accusations faded and a heavy guilt for hurting Ron replaced it; he should have broken the news gently, not in retaliation to criticisms of his own marriage.

Harry only wished his news had been false and blurted to Ron out of anger or jealousy, but unfortunately it was the truth. He felt horrid for Ron, and wondered what his friend would do now. What if the baby wasn't Ron's? Or what if it was and now he was stuck in a marriage with an unfaithful wife? He didn't know which was worse. How could they live like that? How could Ron be so oblivious?

He realized that Ron would probably need a friend as the news sunk in, so he Apparated back to the pub ready to make up with the hot-tempered idiot. Unfortunately, Ron had already left and was probably at home by now demanding answers from Hermione. Harry resolved that he would just have to go home and try to help Ron as much as he could at the office the following morning.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Ginny heard the front door click open and nearly ran through the house to meet her husband in the foyer. "What happened?" she demanded. Her mind had been whirling with scenarios –none of them good- ever since the moment Harry took off. She hadn't meant for things to get so out of hand, and she certainly didn't want Ron and Hermione suffering for her mistakes, but she didn't know what else to do. If she told Harry that it wasn't Hermione he saw that day then he would know immediately that it was her.

"It went well," Harry replied sarcastically and made his way around her and into the living room where he flopped onto the sofa as if exhausted.

"Well, what did he say?" she pried.

"He didn't believe me of course," Harry huffed. "He rattled off nonsense about us having a bad marriage and that Hermione thinks you're cheating on me and then-"

"What? Hermione said that?" she demanded, somewhat annoyed. She'd never given Hermione any indication that she was sleeping with Draco. Who did she think she was speculating about her and Harry's relationship?

"Apparently," Harry sighed. "Obviously it's not true though," he added with a wave. "They've been accusing me of it for over a year now and I've never touched anyone else. Plus, I don't believe you'd ever be that dishonest with me." Ginny swallowed thickly and nodded in agreement as fast as she could. "But that's not the worst bit, Gin," Harry sighed. "Turns out Mione's pregnant."

"Harry, that's wonderful!" Ginny squealed in delight, not understanding how that could be a bad thing.

"It would be if not for the fact that Hermione's been sleeping with someone else. What happens if it's not Ron's?" he asked, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes against whatever mental images where accosting him.

"Right," Ginny muttered, feeling a bit ill. Of course Ginny knew it _was_ Ron's because she knew Hermione wasn't cheating. No, that was all her. She knew Ron would have flipped out even more at Harry's news. What if the pair broke up? It would be all her fault. With a groan she flopped down to the sofa beside her husband, realizing as she did that it was the first time they had just sat together for ages.

"Harry, what happened to us?" she whispered, wondering if he had the answer.

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled it into his lap and she looked over at him. His eyes were still closed and his head was tilted back up to the ceiling. A look of great distress was marring his features and she bit into her bottom lip, knowing she had contributed to his unhappiness. "I don't know, Gin," he replied at last.

When he finally turned to look at her, his green eyes looked to carry the weight of a million burdens and it made her wince. "Harry, I have something to tell you."

"Oh? Is it about Malfoy?" Harry asked softly.

Her eyes widened dramatically and her hand went rigid within his grip. "How did you know?" she asked.

"I ran into him out in the street earlier today. I figured you were waiting for the right time to bring it up," Harry replied, his face still looking weary but his eyes were warm. Still, a bout of panic set into her gut and her breathing became shallow and erratic. "He told me about the fundraiser and that he invited us. I know you usually like to go so I told him we'd make it."

Ginny tried to keep the physical shudder of relief from her voice so she simply nodded in reply. One of these days she was going to have a heart attack from one of her numerous close calls. "I thought you didn't like those things?" she replied at last. Part of her wanted to go just to see Draco, but the sensible part of her was leery to have her two men together with the odd way Draco had been acting as of late.

"I don't, but I had fun with Malfoy last time. He's not such a bad guy, he's grown up a lot since Hogwarts," Harry replied, closing his eyes again and letting his head lull back into the sofa.

Ginny could vividly recall the last Malfoy fundraiser that she and Harry had attended. There had been two since her interview with Draco, the first one he had invited her to that very same day and she had declined, but the following year she talked Harry into going. Ginny had a wonderful time that evening, dancing the night away with various colleagues and friends while Harry stuck to the sidelines. They both looked fabulous, Harry in simple yet expensive black dress robes and Ginny in a long black gown so that they were a matched pair even if they were on opposite sides of the room.

Everyone of importance was there and she must have secured no less than a dozen interviews at that one party alone. It wasn't until she looked up from her dance with the Viscount of Transylvania –a rather pale and graceful man- that she noticed that Draco had been keeping her husband company for quite some time.

There was no affair between them at that point, but still a sense of dread settled over her as she saw the two men talking with one another. She knew both men had a volatile relationship at best and though Harry's smile seemed genuine for the moment, she didn't want a scene to erupt in the middle of Malfoy Manor. She glided over to interrupt their chat and was met with ringing laughter.

"Ginevra, you never mentioned that your husband was so charming," Draco said smoothly as he quieted his chuckle.

"You're speaking as though you've never met," Ginny replied, rolling her eyes.

"We may as well not have," he replied, turning his attention back to Harry. "Tell me another story, Potter," Draco nearly begged.

Harry laughed and began reciting the tale of how he produced a Patronus in his third year and Ginny wandered off again, having already heard that story from both Harry and Hermione several times before. It seemed things between the men were safe enough, but still she couldn't help but notice how handsome Draco was that night smiling beside her husband.

It was at the end of that Fundraiser that Draco first flirted with her in earnest. She was standing near the beverage table waiting for Harry when he finally arrived with Draco in tow. Apparently the pair had been inseparable all evening and when Harry wove his arm around Ginny's waist Draco grimaced and sidled up on the other side of her.

"When will you be doing a follow up interview on me, Ginevra Dear?" he asked.

"I didn't know you interviewed Malfoy," Harry mentioned, directing it at Ginny.

"Yes, about a year or so ago. It was one of my early assignments," she quipped.

"What's wrong, Potter. Jealous?" Draco teased, but Harry shook his head.

"I'm not really the type to get jealous over such things," he replied with a smile.

"Excellent. Then perhaps we could all go to dinner sometime and have a bit of fun afterward," Draco mused with a seductively raised eyebrow. Ginny watched Harry blush and look away, which was the only way she knew he wasn't taking the blonde seriously.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Malfoy?" she asked with a hint of annoyance. She didn't like it when people made her husband uncomfortable, but she was slightly flattered at the obvious come on.

"If you think I'm suggesting a ménage a trois, than yes, Ginevra, you'd be correct," he replied with a subtle smirk and she swatted at his arm.

"Just because Harry's not jealous of an interview doesn't mean he wants you to sleep with his wife," Ginny replied with pursed lips.

"Is that true, Harry?" Draco asked, turning the ebony-haired man's face to look at him. "You wouldn't share a bed with me?"

Ginny didn't give Harry's temper time to rise before pulling Malfoy off to the side. "Listen Malfoy, this flirting with me has got to stop. Harry's going to suspect that something is going on between us when it's not," she warned him in a harsh whisper.

"I was only teasing, Ginevra," Draco replied with a gracious, yet mocking bow.

"You've been hovering over him all night," she challenged.

"Are you afraid that Potter might leave you if he were to become suspicious of our relationship," Draco asked, his pale eyebrow lifted in question.

"He most certainly would. Harry dislikes dishonesty above all things," she replied haughtily. "And we don't _have_ a relationship," she added.

"Yet," Draco quipped, before floating back over to Harry's side.

After that night Draco had pursued her at work, attempting to pay off Luna until the woman made Ginny go out to lunch with him for a follow up interview just so that he would stop pestering her. He hadn't met her for lunch –at least not in person- instead he had sent word that he had to reschedule for that night at a hotel he was staying at for a business meeting.

She arrived that night, going straight to the hotel lounge where the note promised he'd be but she didn't see him. She sat at the bar and ordered a drink when a man she'd never met before walked up to her and stood threateningly close. "Are you Ginevra Potter?" the man asked.

"Who wants to know?" she quipped. She wasn't giving her information to a strange man in an expensive hotel.

"My employer, Mr. Malfoy," the man retorted.

"Oh, well then yes, I'm Ginny," she replied quickly with a slight flush at being so nervous.

"He'd like you to meet him in his room. He's running late," he announced and handed her a small card with the number eight-fifty-two on the back, before walking away.

Ginny didn't have time to respond before the man was gone, and she was forced to either march upstairs for her interview or lose out altogether. She was tempted just to leave, but she knew Malfoy would be persistent and rumor had it he was courting someone seriously again –he'd dropped a little hint in _Witch Weekly_ a couple of days prior that he'd finally met his one true love- so she was eager to get the scoop on that story.

Quickly she made her way upstairs deciding to just get the ordeal over with. The door was ajar when she arrived and Draco was standing by the window just staring out into the dark night sky. That wouldn't have been terribly impressive on its own except that he was nude from the waist up and for pants he was only wearing thin linen pajama bottoms that the moon streamed through highlighting his lithe silhouette perfectly. "You could have told me this was a clothing optional interview," Ginny remarked through her dried throat.

It had already been months since Harry had last touched her and the sight of a stunning, nearly nude man in a hotel room where the bed was clearly visible made the gears of her logical mind shut down with an audible clunk. "Would you have come if I had?" he asked, his tone holding an edge of amusement.

"Probably not," she admitted.

"Probably?" he mused. "Interesting."

"Can we just get to the part where I ask questions and you answer them?" she inquired shortly. "Preferably while you're wearing a shirt."

"What questions have you prepared," he asked, taking a seat and ignoring her comment about more clothing.

"I wanted to know more about the woman you mentioned in _Witch Weekly_," she told him as she pulled out her notebook and quill.

"Woman?" he asked, looking puzzled.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Stop being coy, Malfoy. You said that you had finally met the love of your life but you never gave a name."

"My exact words were 'one true love' and no, I didn't give a name," he confirmed. "What makes you think you'll get one?"

"Because you've been asking for this interview," Ginny replied. "Usually the interviewer has to plead, not the interviewee. I figure you must have something you want to say."

"Maybe," Draco replied, letting the openness of his statement hang in the air. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and I'm a very unconventional man, so my thought process is slightly twisted. But part of why I asked you here was to discuss the person I mentioned in _Witch Weekly_."

"So you found that beautiful, independently wealthy, and all around perfect person did you?" she inquired with a soft smile.

"I did, yes," he conceded. "I didn't think I would, but I met them again recently and knew right away they were everything I was looking for."

"So you knew this person before?" she asked, jotting the note down on her pad.

"I did, or rather I thought I did. Turns out they are much more fascinating then I could ever have imagined," he mused, as if daydreaming.

"So, do I get a name?" she asked.

"Let's see if you can guess," he replied with an elegant eyebrow raised in challenge.

She huffed, slightly exasperated, but Malfoy's love life was always cover worthy, if she could score the name of his new paramour than she would see a huge boost in her career. "When did you last see her?" she asked, playing along with his game.

"At the Fundraiser," Draco answered.

"Well that narrows it down," she replied sarcastically. "Every elite witch was there."

"Yes, there were many wealthy witches and wizards, but only one of them captured my attention," he noted easily.

"Who did you talk to that night aside from my husband?" Ginny inquired, but Draco merely shook his head in amusement.

"I'm not listing people for you, Ginevra. That would spoil all my fun," he teased.

"Fine," she huffed. "What were they wearing?"

"Black," he answered simply.

"Again, you're ever so helpful," she sighed.

"I try," Draco replied with a smile.

"Hair color?" she asked but Draco shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid that's too telling. Next question?" he added with wave.

"You're infuriating," she muttered. "Did you two dance?" she asked, thinking of the few times she saw him on the dance floor -that would certainly narrow it down.

"No, but I would have liked to," Draco answered.

Ginny threw her arms up in exasperation. "I give," she announced. "It could have been anyone."

"You really haven't figured it out? I'm ashamed of you, Ginevra. You know this person so intimately. I even propositioned them at the end of the evening," he added with a wink.

Ginny's heart fluttered to a stop when she realized what Draco was saying. She was there at the fundraiser, she was wearing black, had a distinctive hair color and was far too busy to dance with Malfoy -not that he had asked her- they had known each other before and she supposed she fit most of his criteria for a perfect match. "Me?" she whispered more to herself than to Draco, not able to meet his glowing silver gaze.

His smile was soft, yet wicked and it was the only confirmation he offered before getting up and marching over to stand directly in front of her. "Have you come to a conclusion, then?" he asked.

She nodded her head and leaned back into her chair. From where she sat, Ginny had a perfect view of Draco's erect member pressing against his thin trousers and she thought of what Draco would feel like inside of her. A shuddering sigh escaped her lips as she mentally counted the days she'd been without the touch of her husband. Ninety-two. So many lonely nights, so many cold shoulders and distant looks, she could hardly bear it.

"I love my husband," she whispered.

"I can see why," Draco replied thickly.

"He'll leave me if I do this," she told him, and she knew it to be true the moment she said the words. It was probably the one and only thing that would surely drive Harry away.

"Do what?"

"Have an affair with you," she replied.

"Then leave him first," he reasoned.

"I can't," she whispered, afraid of that option. She didn't want to be Harry Potter's ex wife.

"Do you see no future between us?" Draco asked seriously, his eyes like twin moons.

"I can't," she whimpered again, but he was already pulling roughly at her top, sending the buttons flying across the carpet underfoot. She didn't move, didn't resist even once, not even when Draco took her hand and led her over to the bed. She tried to kiss him, but he refused, citing that he never kissed anyone on the mouth. It was far too intimate a gesture for him.

They made love that night, and Ginny had discovered what kind of passion she had been missing for her entire life. Afterward Draco sat perfectly still and as nude as the day he was born, just staring at Ginny with a saddened yet satisfied smirk. "So you're leaving him?" he asked.

"I never said that," Ginny replied, repairing her shirt with a simple spell and slipping it back on.

Draco rounded on her, his eyes molten metal. "So what was that?" he demanded.

"Sex," she responded simply. "Great sex," she added with a smile.

"Ginevra Weasley, did you just use me?" he asked, a slight curl to his lips.

"No," she gasped, not wanting to be that kind of woman. "I can't leave Harry, though."

Draco leaned in, his breath ghosting her ear and she shuddered. "Do you want this?" he asked.

"I do," she replied, her entire body on fire from his touch even then.

"Then tell, Potter," he demanded and pulled away. "I won't see you again unless you tell him about us." With that he left, walking into the restroom and closing the door behind him.

Ginny gathered her things and left swiftly. Harry was asleep when she arrived home and the next morning he didn't inquire as to her whereabouts the night before. She went three weeks before finally contacting Draco again. She had missed his touch and thought about him often during that time. When she wrote to him his very first question was 'have you told Potter?' to which she brazenly responded 'yes', thus sending her shooting into a downward spiral of lies that she couldn't seem to end.

"Gin?" Harry called, nudging her out of her daydream.

"Hm?" she asked distractedly, still thinking of Draco.

"I asked if you wanted me to make dinner or if you wanted to have something delivered," he repeated, looking down at her curiously.

"Delivery is fine," she muttered. "Actually I think I should head up to bed. I'm not feeling well."

"Oh, okay," he replied, looking down at his knees.

She smiled weakly at her husband as she walked upstairs, dreading the inevitable run-in between her husband and her lover at the Fundraiser. She was going to have to work doubly hard to keep the two apart since they were nearly inseparable the last time. The last thing she needed was for Draco to talk about sleeping with her in front of Harry. She was worried about them causing a scene the first time; Merlin only knew what might happen this time.

Author's Note: So I'm aware that this story is rather unconventional. I'm also aware that there was a slight discrepency in the last chapter. What Draco should have said in bed with Ginny was "If I wanted to enact some revenge on Potter by sleeping with his wife, wouldn't it be better if I could actually_ talk_ to him about it?" It was revised in a latter version of the story but then the wrong version was uploaded. whoops.


	5. Keep Away

Author's Note: So yes, this is a rather unconventional story, and I know some of you have theories as to what is going on and some of you are still wondering 'what the hell!' This chapter begins the spiral of unfolding events, and you get a brief peek into Draco's psyche... enjoy. Also, if you haven't already seen, I posted the first chapter of a new short story I'm working on called 'Plundered'. It's a funny, smutty Pirate Drarry tale.

Chapter 5 Keep Away

Harry was used to benefits and fundraisers, as a Ministry employee and celebrity he was invited to no less than a dozen events each year, most of which he declined, but some he was forced into attendance by either his boss or his wife. He hated the gawking and unwarranted attention he got at those types of functions, he hated people chatting with him about things they knew nothing about, and he hated being made into a spectacle.

The Malfoy fundraiser, however, held no undertones of dislike for Harry. He had been reluctant last year when Ginny insisted they attend, but unlike other nights, he'd had a fabulous time. The night had started off rocky at first, if he could correctly recall. He and Ginny had been accosted by the Minister upon their arrival and pulled into a long political discussion that had Harry feeling as though he might begin snoring at any moment. After they carefully maneuvered out of that conversation, Ginny had spotted a woman she had been chasing after for weeks trying to secure an interview, so she began pursuing the woman, along with other celebrities around the vast ballroom, leaving Harry to fend for himself.

He didn't mind at first, until a certain blonde Slytherin skulked over to greet him. "Potter, it's been ages," he greeted coolly.

"That it has," Harry replied carefully, not wanting his former feelings toward the Slytherin to leak into his tone. Time and war changed people and he would give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt until the man proved he didn't deserve it.

"I'm willing to bet you're bored out of your mind," Draco remarked easily.

Harry chuckled and shook his head slightly. "I'm fine," he corrected untruthfully.

"You're also rubbish at lying. _I'm_ bored and it's _my_ party," Draco replied.

"Fine, I'm bored. Happy now?" Harry humored him with a smile.

"So, then all that's left is to figure out what to do about it," Draco mused with a smirk.

"We could spike the punch," Harry offered helpfully.

"Already been done," Draco replied in mock sorrow. "These bastards are equally dull sloshed as they are sober."

"That's such a shame," Harry complained. "Perhaps we should magic their mouths shut."

"Hmm, yes that's a good idea," Draco replied thoughtfully. "I'm afraid _we_ would then be the center of attention though."

"Not if we left," Harry advised with a wink.

Draco laughed then, a deep throaty sound that reminded Harry of his old partner. He felt instantly comfortable in his former enemy's company. "Ah yes, but where could we go that no one would find us?"

"I've always wanted to visit an island," Harry suggested, his mind drifting to the postcards he kept in his office of crystal clear, teal waters and powdery white sand. "Someplace warm and tropical."

"So a deserted island then?" Draco asked. "Could be fun, what would one do on an island?"

"Swim, bask in the sunlight, build sand castles," Harry listed.

"I can't swim," Draco admitted.

"No? I can teach you then," he offered in reply.

"You know how to swim?" Draco asked, looking slightly amazed. "None of my friends did growing up. We had no need."

"If I hadn't known I would have been fairly useless in the second Tournament task," Harry reasoned.

"I forgot," Draco replied honestly. "Did you really have to fight underwater?"

Harry nodded and began to tell the story of his experiences during the second task. He normally didn't like talking about his adventures with anyone, but he felt oddly at ease with Malfoy. It was almost like they were old friends suddenly reunited as if no time had passed at all. He didn't understand it, but he wasn't willing to fight the feeling off, as he hadn't felt that way about someone in a long while. He thought he'd rather prefer to simply enjoy it while he could. Harry had just told Draco about Ron's jealous face when Fleur kissed him for saving her sister, when his wife approached looking wary.

Harry at once went tense at her concerned look, wondering if she was going to fly off on some tangent and ruin Draco's mood. It wasn't until he heard Draco call him 'charming' and felt a blush creep up his face that he realized what he was feeling. Harry was attracted to Draco, just as he had been to his old partner, Allen. What Harry had thought to be a weird fluke and a product of spending too much time together was obviously something else altogether if he was feeling that way toward Malfoy as well. He quickly shoved the feelings aside and stood up a bit straighter, trying to banish the look of dismay from his features. What he thought he was feeling for Malfoy was nonsense. He was just tired and lonely and willing to attribute the slightest pull as an attraction toward the man, when clearly it was just a new friendship unfolding, nothing more. He was a married man for Merlin's sake.

Draco and Ginny sparred for only a moment before the blonde's attentions were focused on Harry once more and he had to fight the satisfaction that welled up in his gut over the fact. When Draco asked him for another story he was happy to oblige and began talking about the night Lupin changed and he had to perform a powerful Patronus charm to fend of a flock of Dementors. He didn't even notice when his wife left him alone once again with the man he used to loathe, however, he did notice how captivating the cool gray Draco's eyes had been that night.

"I think if I were to pick anyone in the world to save me, it would be you, Potter," Draco told him with a smile that seemed to come out of nowhere. "Would you mind having your picture taken with me?" he asked, and Harry's stomach churned slightly at the request. Did Draco want to use his fame as a bolster just like everyone else?

He agreed nonetheless and within moments Draco had a photographer over and a bright flash of light blinded him. "Well, let's have it then," Draco demanded of the little man with the camera and with a couple clicks and a wave of the man's wand Draco was holding a portrait of the two of them standing side-by-side. "Perfect," Draco mused lightly, scrutinizing every aspect of the photograph.

"So what, is that for the _Daily __Prophet _or _Witch Weekly_?" Harry asked, a bit more coldly than he wanted. It hurt deeply to think that Draco was only paying attention to him as a publicity stunt.

"This? No, this is just for me," he replied, extending the photo for Harry to see while shooing the photographer away. "See what a powerful pair we make, you and I? It's as if we were meant to be."

Harry swallowed thickly and looked down at the picture. Malfoy was beaming proudly with his arm wrapped around Harry's waist, while the Gryffindor looked visibly content at Draco's side. Harry's throat went slightly dry and his palms became sweaty, but he had no room to comment before Draco pocketed the photo and smiled at him. "We're probably the best looking wizards here, Harry," Draco mentioned, scanning the crowd.

Draco was by far the most handsome wizard there; that was certain. His blonde hair and regal pale features stood out amongst the sea of darker hair and skin, and while Draco was lithe and fit, the rest of the crowd seemed to be obese monsters in comparison to Malfoy's beauty -for the man truly was more beautiful than he was handsome.

"Tell me about your marriage, Harry," Draco requested, pulling Harry sharply from his fantasies. "Are you and Ginevra happy?"

Harry grimaced at the thought of his wife somewhere in the crowd while he stood there flirting with the Host. "We're happy enough. No marriage is perfect," he reasoned. He hadn't touched his wife in months, having attended more than a dozen Healer's appointments and no signs of Ginny being pregnant yet.

"I think they can be if you're with the right person," Draco replied, stepping a little closer. "Do you ever think that someone else might be right for you," he asked, "or Ginevra even?" he added quickly.

"No," Harry replied, backing away. This conversation was quickly going in a direction he didn't like and he knew what the outcome would be, he'd experienced sharp rejection once before when he thought he was reading signs of mutual attraction and it turned out to be platonic friendship. "I think I should go and find Ginny. The guests are all beginning to leave."

"As you wish," Draco replied with a slight tilt to his head. "I'll walk with you," he offered and kept pace with Harry through the hall as they sought his wife. Harry's discomfort only heightened when Draco began teasing about having a threesome with him and Ginny, and the smoldering gray gaze Draco affixed him with made Harry wonder if he was joking after all.

Harry hadn't thought about the end of the evening much after that night and had only seen Draco on occasion throughout the last year. All he was left with was the twinge of comfort he had felt in Malfoy's company. That's what he was looking to grasp again tonight when he attended this year's Malfoy Fundraiser.

------------------------------------------------------

Draco took a deep shuddering breath and stared at the photo on his desk –the one he had taken with Harry this same time last year. The portrait was accompanied by one of his parents, and it was the only other personal item on his work surface. He often stared at it to remind himself of his goals and what he hoped to achieve through a carefully constructed plan that only a Malfoy would have the wherewithal and determination to follow through with. It hadn't gone as expected, initially he planned to give Ginevra the night of her life and make her break things off with Potter right away so that he'd become available to him instead.

But no, the twit had actually told Potter and the man had agreed to allow their affair to continue, forcing Draco to carry on with the charade while he devised a new plan. Although recently Draco had begun to suspect that Ginevra was lying on that count and that Harry knew little to nothing of what was happening right beneath his nose. He'd been failing for weeks to try and get Harry to catch her, even going so far as to send anonymous tips that would place Harry at the scene of it all, but it seemed the Gryffindor remained stubbornly clueless as to his wife's activities. It mattered very little though. Ginevra's actions tonight would tell Draco everything he needed to know and soon enough Harry would catch her and divorce her and if the rest of the plan went as he expected, Harry would soon be falling into his welcoming lap.

He was fully aware that if Harry caught him with his wife that he would appear just as guilty of the treachery as Ginevra, but Draco felt confident that he could charm his way passed that stigma far better than Harry's less-than-devoted wife could.

With a sigh, Draco pressed a kiss to his index finger and held it to the glass over Harry's portrait. "Soon, my love," he whispered before leaving his office to get ready for his party.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of a violin pierced through all other noise as Mr. and Mrs. Potter entered the room. Ginny had her arm twined tightly around her husband's as they wove their way through the crowd. Her eyes were cautiously sifting through the mass of people looking for a spark of blonde hair so that she could steer them clear of it. She would have loved to spend time dancing with Draco, or otherwise engaging with him publicly, would that not lead the papers, and therefore Harry, to the conclusion that Ginny was having an affair.

Then there was Draco himself, who had been acting strangely as of late, and after their last encounter she was convinced the sneaky former Slytherin had alternative motives for continuing their relationship. She was certain that her lover was beginning to think of their affair as some kind of game to one-up the Great Harry Potter and if Draco didn't keep his mouth shut about their relationship in front of her husband, all would be ruined.

An hour passed and Ginny noticed with relief that there had been no sign of the Fundraiser's host. Harry seemed bored, but better bored than filing for divorce she supposed. When the Minister approached and asked if she'd like to dance she hesitated, not wanting to leave Harry's side.

"It's fine, Gin," Harry told her with a laugh, practically shoving her into Kingsley's arms. With a sigh she acquiesced and joined the man on the dance floor.

"Harry's a shoe in for the next election," Kingsley mused aloud while they spun slowly through the other dancers.

"Do you think?" Ginny asked brightly. "He seems to have a rather different impression."

"Harry's very modest. I'm not sure he would admit he had the power to be a brilliant Minister even once the position was thrust upon him," Kingsley replied with a laugh.

"Very true," Ginny agreed. "Still, I hope he runs. It would mean a lot to my family and I to see Harry occupy that seat."

"He'll run if I have to put his name in myself," Kingsley joked.

"It might just take that," Ginny said with a mocking huff of exasperation.

"If he can win over someone like Malfoy so easily, he should have no trouble with the rest of the Wizarding public," he mused, nodding over to where her husband stood smiling next to her lover.

Without explanation she pulled away from Kingsley and walked as quickly as she could to where the two men stood. Draco saw her coming however and with a wink her direction, looped his arm through Harry's and wove him away and out of her sight.

"What is he up to?" she hissed to herself as she stood on tiptoes trying to search out where they had gone. She scanned the crowd for ages trying to find the pair, asking everyone she knew if they had seen them, all to no avail. Finally she ventured outside the ballroom and roamed the corridors of Malfoy Manor before stumbling upon a pair of deep voices. She inched closer to an open door that seemed to lead to a study, and it sounded as if the voices were coming from inside that room.

"… She's quite lovely," Draco was saying, for his voice was easy to distinguish. "I'm amazed you two ever leave the house."

"It's not like that with us," Harry admitted softly. "I- I don't look at her that way anymore."

Even though she knew deep down it was true, Ginny had never heard her husband actually speak of his lack of attraction toward her. How could he confide such a thing to a stranger –Draco Malfoy of all people- and not tell her that himself. All this time she could have left Harry for Draco if she'd just known for sure that Harry didn't love her.

"So then you wouldn't mind if someone else stepped in?" Draco asked, his voice disconnected though still a bit seductive. Ginny knew all too well what he was hinting at.

Harry didn't have time to answer. Ginny couldn't let the conversation continue, Harry had already nearly ousted her secret to Draco that he knew nothing of their relationship and she couldn't afford for both men to discover her lies. She had a lot of thinking to do, but she had to stop this conversation before it progressed too much further. She quickly slinked into the room and went to her husband's side.

"There you are, honey," she cooed, winding her arm through Harry's. "I had wondered where you'd gotten off to."

"Harry hasn't gotten off in some time, from what I hear," Draco muttered crudely, making Harry blush.

Ginny didn't hear him, however, and went on to talk about the Minister. "He said you'd be a shoe in for the next election, Harry."

"I'm not interested in being Minister, Gin," Harry sighed.

"Why ever not?" Draco asked with genuine looking interest.

"I hate Ministry politics," Harry groaned. "I just want to settle down and have a family, but that hasn't been very successful."

Ginny winced at the comment, after her husband's blurting that he no longer wanted her sexually, she could only assume it was because of their inability to have children. She knew when she married Harry that he wanted a family, and she thought that would be an easy thing to give him given the quantity of Weasleys so far, but nothing had been further from the truth.

"You could always adopt," Draco reasoned, but Harry simply looked to his wife.

"Ginny doesn't want to," he muttered.

"I-I just don't think it would be the same as having our own," Ginny protested. "I wanted to keep trying and see what happened. Look at how long it took Hermione and Ron."

Harry sighed and went back to looking at Malfoy, who seemed just as fascinated with her husband. "Yes, but that might simply be because she slept with someone else."

"What?" Draco exclaimed, shock written all over his features. "I didn't take Granger as the type to sleep around."

"No, I didn't either," Harry admitted. "I still can't believe she would do that to Ron, but I saw her with my own eyes leaving the Baglioni Hotel. She was even wearing Ginny's scarf."

A sound that mimicked a combination of a laugh and a cough expelled from Draco's mouth, but he quickly recovered. Still his eyes flicked to Ginny's and she knew he had put two and two together.

"Harry, I think we should mingle a bit and then head home. I'm not feeling so well," she whined, wanting to get her husband away from her lover as fast as magically possible.

"If you're sick we can leave right now," Harry soothed, pulling her toward the door. "Sorry for the quick exit," he told Malfoy over her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you, we should get together for a drink sometime," he offered.

"Count on it," Malfoy agreed with a slick wink. "And if you get bored after tucking Ginevra in at home you're welcome to come back here for a night cap," Draco offered in return.

Ginny almost lost her footing at the comment and vowed to do everything in her power to keep Harry occupied long enough to keep him from returning. There was no telling what secrets Draco would divulge with Harry at his private disposal –not with the mood he was in tonight already.

Author's note: yes, I'm fully aware that Draco seems a bit like a creepy stalker, but so far as stalkers go, Harry could do worse, right?


	6. Shit Plus Fan

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her beta work on this chapter and for her quirky notes that always make me giggle. Now, what's all this about wanting Harry to stop being so frakin oblivious and for Ginny to have her downfall already? Ask and you shall receive (sometimes).

Chapter 6 Shit Plus Fan

Ginny reluctantly opened the door, stepping aside so that Draco could swagger into her foyer. She was grateful that Harry had chosen that Sunday afternoon to check in on Hermione and Ron or else Merlin only know what the blond would say in her husband's presence. Draco had grown increasingly bold and volatile over the last few months and she was beginning to suspect he craved something more than their current affair.

Her lover didn't speak as he strode quickly to the living room and sank elegantly into a side chair by the fireplace. "I assume by your calm demeanor that Potter's not here?" he said at last, still not looking up at her but instead eyeing a portrait of Harry and Teddy on the mantle.

"No. He's at Ron's," she confirmed. "You can speak freely."

When Draco's cold eyes met her own it made a shiver of fear run down her spine. In all the months of their meeting she had never seen him look at her that way. She had never before had reason to remember that Draco Malfoy was a dangerous man born and trained in the Dark Arts. "I would have spoken freely were he present or not," he hissed. "In fact, I'm rather disappointed that he's not around to hear what a lying minx he's married to."

Her jaw nearly hit the floor at his words, confirming aloud just what she had suspected; Draco now knew that she'd been lying to him and he was going to ruin her for it. "I- I didn't lie," she attempted, her words just made Draco stand, towering over her slight form as he pressed her shoulders roughly into the wall, making her gasp in both discomfort and arousal. Never had Draco been so forceful, so passionate with her. It was a side she wished she'd seen from the beginning.

"You told me that your husband knew about us," he growled, "but it seems he's been blissfully ignorant of the fact that I've been shagging his wife right under his nose."

"He trusts me," she corrected. "He's not stupid, I'm just careful. I didn't mean to lie, I just didn't want to give either of you up," she sobbed, letting her head fall forward in dismay.

Draco's grip loosened and she looked up into his fiercely determined eyes. "Now you have to make a choice," he insisted. "Leave Potter for me or I'll tell him everything and you can lose us both."

She gasped and shook her head. "No, no you can't tell him. He'll be devastated."

"Then leave him," Draco ordered, hovering just over her lips. "Choose me and you can spare Potter's grief at knowing his wife has been unfaithful to him for months."

"How would my leaving him for you make him feel any different?" she asked, pleading that he understand she was incapable of breaking Harry's heart.

"You haven't slept together in more than a year, unless you lied to me about that as well," he growled, his anger and grip strengthening once more. His jealousy made her swoon, but she shook her head fiercely.

"Harry told you himself," she reminded him and he calmed once more.

"You can site your lack of connection for the reason for asking for a divorce," he suggested. "It will pain him less that way. Even he admitted that things were shaky between you."

"He'll never agree. He'll want to go to counseling, anything to work things out. Harry's not a quitter," she replied honestly.

Draco seemed to think on this and let her go, staring blindly passed her as she rubbed her aching arms where his hands had been. "I suggest you _make _him agree," he hissed at last, glaring down at her. "Otherwise you'll lose everything."

With that threat he stormed out of her home, leaving her mind reeling as to what she could possibly say or do to fix everything and keep them both. If only she had a Time Turner she could go back and make sure Harry never went to that fundraiser.

------------------------------------------------------

Harry rang the bell at Hermione and Ron's cottage once more. He'd already rung it nearly a dozen times but no one came to the door. Normally he would just assume that there was no one home, but he'd already heard noises inside and seen Ron come to the window only to walk away again.

With a heavy sigh he knocked persistently with his fist until it hurt before letting his forehead fall to the red doorframe in defeat. He wanted to try and make amends with his best friends; he would do anything within his power to help them through what was obviously a rough time.

He didn't notice the door being opened until he looked up to see Hermione's face staring back at him. Her face was pink as if she'd been arguing and losing. "Mione," Harry whispered, planting himself firmly before her. "I'm sorry."

"Well you should be, Harry James Potter," she snapped, but she didn't look terribly angry with him. "You've sent Ron on quite the tangent and he's not too pleased with you at the moment."

"Me?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused. Sure, he assumed the man would be angry about the way he had broken the news, but he thought the pair would have a lot more to worry about than that, like Hermione's infidelity.

"Yes, You," she griped. "He's angry that his best friend tried to instigate problems in our marriage instead of congratulating us on our pregnancy."

"I did congratulate you… sort of," Harry muttered. "I really am thrilled for you both, but he had to know what was going on behind his back," he added firmly.

Hermione sighed and leaned against the door, still not inviting Harry in. "It's your back I'm worried about, Harry. I have never cheated on Ron in all the years we've been together. I tried to explain that to you last week but you wouldn't listen."

"But, Mione I _saw_ you," he whined, not wanting to continue this fight. They couldn't work past it and move on if Hermione continued to deny what he knew to be true.

"You think you saw me. You saw a woman dressed in your wife's clothing who gave my name to a bartender," she replied firmly. "Who do you really think it was?"

A shiver ran down Harry's spine at her words. He had originally thought it was Ginny, swore it was her, but the name was what threw him. Why would Ginny give your name to some random bartender?" he asked carefully, not sure he believed Hermione's story but it wasn't as if his best friend made a habit of lying to him.

"Maybe because she didn't want her Auror husband catching her?" Hermione suggested wisely.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I just can't believe she would do such a thing."

"Maybe you should ask her about it," Hermione offered. "But for now, Ron needs time to get past what he sees as a betrayal of your friendship."

"I only ever want what's best for you both," Harry whispered. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know, and he'll see that eventually, too. Just give him a couple days, okay?" she requested, squeezing his hand. He nodded and she smiled weakly at him before closing the door. With heavy steps, Harry left his friends' doorway, not liking the revelation that Hermione had placed upon his shoulders.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leverage. That's what Draco realized he'd been missing all along. He thought he'd had it, that the sheer impact of himself on Ginevra's life would be enough to make her leave Potter, thus leaving Potter free and single for himself, but he'd been wrong on so many counts. All this time he had been focusing all his energy and scheming on the woman, when he should have been focusing on Harry.

His assumption that Harry would never quit his marriage unless given a good reason was valid, of course, even Ginevra had admitted as much. But there had to be a way to make him see that reason, because clearly his wife wasn't trustworthy enough to tell him about her affair, and as Draco saw it, the affair was all hers. He was only sleeping with her to _get __to_ Harry, while she was sleeping with him to get _away_ _from_ Harry. It all made perfect sense in his own brand of twisted logic.

Still, making Harry see what was plainly in front of him was turning out to take more effort than a simple anonymous tip to be in a certain place at a certain time. He couldn't fathom how Harry hadn't seen his wife leave the hotel in that garish scarf until the fundraiser where he said he'd mistaken her for Hermione. It was really quite fascinating really; the lengths Harry's mind would go to in order to protect him from the truth.

As Draco closed the lid on the gold box in front of him, he held hope that this new message would reach Harry's ears this time and that finally he would see what was right under his nose all along. Draco certainly couldn't count on Ginevra to end things, even after his ultimatum earlier that day. She'd most likely turn coward and attempt something stupid, so Draco knew he had to take matters into his own hands and _make_ Harry see the truth.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Silence at breakfast was typical in the Potter home, but it was more awkward than normal on Monday morning. Harry pushed his eggs around his plate, unable to find the Gryffindor courage to ask his wife if she'd been unfaithful to him; to be honest, he was afraid of the answer. He knew that if she had it would be at least partially his own fault since he hadn't considered her needs recently. Still, it wasn't as if his own needs were being met and he had never shagged anyone else.

Ginny sat across from him nibbling anxiously on a slice of dry toast, how she could eat such bland food he never knew; give him butter and jam over plain toast any day. "Harry," she spoke at last, he voice wavering slightly. "I want to sit down and have a talk tonight. I have something I need to tell you."

"You do?" Harry asked, wondering if Hermione had gotten to her already, perhaps nudged her to confess her sins. Harry took a deep breath and nodded. If she had been unfaithful and was willing to admit her mistakes, they could still work on their marriage and set things right. He was sure of it.

"I'll be home by five," she told him. "Can you do the same?"

"I'll find a way," he promised, thankful that he would be given an explanation to the whirring questions in his mind. They were strong people, he and Ginny, they could work through anything.

----------------------------------------------------

Ginny got up and rinsed her plate before putting it away. Her heart raced at the thought of what she would have to do tonight, she felt she had no other options though. She had been a lying cheat and she knew she deserved whatever punishment she received. Tonight after work she would tell Harry everything and let him decide if they could remain friends. Either way, she wanted Draco and she was going to make that clear to her husband that night. Draco was fiery and alive and that was what she craved in her life, not the daily droll she had with Harry.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Ron, I'm sorry," Harry pleaded, leaning into his cubicle entrance. Ron had come in late that day, just before lunchtime and Harry had been waiting impatiently for the chance to speak with him.

"Not now, Harry," Ron muttered. "Not now."

Harry sighed and wanted desperately to reach out and pull his friend into a hug, but he knew Ron would probably just slug him for it. "Just know that I didn't mean to cause trouble and I really just wanted to warn you. I care about you, Ron, and I would do anything to protect you, even if it meant ratting out another friend."

Ron didn't answer, so Harry slipped away. He had said his piece; there wasn't much else he could do until Ron was ready to listen so he made his way to his own office.

Harry was surprised when he entered his cubicle; there on his desk was a shiny gold box with his name on it and he began to wonder if Ginny had sent him a gift of some kind. It didn't say who it was from, but Harry slid the lid off and gazed down at the lacy black bra inside, the very familiar lacy black bra. A simple note was tucked into the folds of the tissue wrapped around the lingerie that said simply 'Your wife left this at the Baglioni Hotel' in a clean black script.

Harry began to hyperventilate. The theory of his wife sleeping around on him was one thing, the reality of it was another thing altogether. Who was she shagging? How long? Why would she betray him this way? His mind filled with questions that he needed the answers to, but first he needed to make certain this was Ginny's. He could pop into the house and search their dresser and hopefully he would find this bra, hopefully someone was just trying to play a cruel prank on him.

He discarded the box and left his office, drawing Ron's attention as he did. He wondered briefly if the gold box had been his friend's work, but shook the idea from his mind. It didn't matter who sent it, not yet anyway.

---------------------------------------------------------

Ginny's gut twisted as she Flooed into her home for lunch. Today would be the last day she cheated on Harry because tonight she would tell him everything. She was both nervous and excited to be starting a real relationship with Draco. He really was the perfect companion: handsome, clever and a skilled lover. In fact, she didn't know what was keeping her from leaving Harry for him from the very start.

She sighed, knowing exactly why. Harry was also the perfect companion: kind, courageous and willing to take the very shirt from his back to help someone else. Harry didn't deserve any of this, but what was done was done. She couldn't take it back but she could make it right. Harry deserved to be happy and maybe she just wasn't that person for him. There was obviously a reason they hadn't made love in more than a year and it had little to do with the fact that Ginny was finding it elsewhere lately. They just weren't compatible in bed; they never had been really.

When she heard the Floo flare to life once more she ran to the living room and into Draco's reluctant arms. "Have you told him?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Not yet," she admitted, "but I'm telling him tonight."

"Your letter said that all was taken care of," Draco replied with an ominous hint to his voice.

"It is; it will be, I swear. I already told Harry that we have to talk tonight and I'm telling him everything before breaking things off," she assured her lover and soon to be exclusive boyfriend. "I just thought we could have one last fling before I go through with this tonight. You know, something to remind me why I'm leaving Harry Potter?" she provoked. She knew her husband's name was a sore spot with Draco; he always grew jealous when she mentioned it in any intimate way.

"I suppose if you've made up your mind to leave him, then a celebration is certainly in order," he conceded, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her into the kitchen.

A silent spell had her clothing off so fast that she gasped before reaching out to grab Draco's face, trying to pull him into a kiss. He pulled back and shook her off with a sharp look. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"I thought that now that we were exclusive that I could finally kiss you," she grumbled, not liking the rejection one bit.

"We're not," he hissed. "Yet. You still have to keep up your end of the bargain."

"You don't trust that I'll end things?" she whispered.

"You've lied to me before," Draco snarled.

Ginny sunk to the table, her bare arse pressed against the edge. "I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered.

Draco sighed and nodded, pulling her to his chest. "I know. I know you're sorry for the trouble you've caused and I know that all will be right soon."

She sagged into his embrace, moaning when he turned her around to face the breakfast table before forcing himself into her from behind.

---------------------------------------------------------

The minute Harry walked through his front door his ears were met with sounds that had not filled his bed in some time –at least not with him. His entire body shook with rage and nerves as he dreaded what he was about to walk in on. He almost turned around and left, not wanting to see with his own two eyes that he wife was a whore, but he was unable to redirect his determined feet.

When he rounded the corner of the kitchen he witnessed a sight he hadn't been expecting. He had expected it to be bad, he knew his wife was in the kitchen shagging someone else, but he hadn't expected the scenario in front of him. There, bent over the table where he had eaten breakfast only hours ago, was his wife being fucked by none other than Draco Malfoy.

"I eat my eggs there!" he shouted. It was the only thing he could think of in that moment, as he was not able to form enough articulate insults for the pair upon seeing the blond defiling his wife in his own home. He felt betrayed by them both; his wife and a man he considered a friend.

A hissed intake of breath met her ears as she saw Harry's wide and angry gaze. "Harry," she cried, trying to pry herself from her compromising position. Draco had already stepped away, keeping a safe distance from the livid Auror, and zipped his fly. He apparently had never even bothered undressing.

"Get out," Harry told them, his voice a trembling whisper as his entire world was ripped out from under him.

"Harry, I can explain. This was what I wanted to talk to you about tonight," she sobbed, falling, still naked, to her knees in front of where Harry stood looking disgusted.

"What? You planned to ask for my permission to fuck Malfoy on our dining room table?" he demanded. "Get out!"

"Harry, please," she pleaded, trying to clutch onto her husband's pant leg but he stepped out of her reach.

"Get the fuck out of this house, both of you!" he screamed, the veins in his neck throbbing as if they might explode. Ginny didn't move though, she just sat there and cried unintelligible words of apology but Harry didn't want to hear them, so he turned and left. His thoughts and breathing resumed when he made it into the fresh air outside his front door but he didn't want to breathe and he certainly didn't want to think about what had just happened to his marriage. He wanted to drown, so he marched to the nearest pub to help himself with that.

----------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: So how is that for finding out? I'm so mean to my poor boys. What will Draco do now, or was this part of his plan all along?


	7. Consequences

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to Emma, who hates Ginny nearly as much as I do. Thanks to Laurel for her beta work on it!

Chapter 7 Consequences

Harry didn't take his normal place in the pub, deciding to forgo the dark corner booth for simply sitting at the bar instead, so that he could get his drinks faster. Firewhiskey slipped down his throat as freely as water while he contemplated what he'd just witnessed only hours before. How could Ginny do that to him? He knew they had problems, but was being married to him so bad that she felt the need to fuck Draco Malfoy in their own home? The implications of this new discovery brought so many things into light for him.

He'd been faithful to a woman who had been sleeping around on him for Merlin only knew how long. He'd falsely accused his best friend of cheating on his other best friend just because he couldn't face facts and see what was apparently right in front of his nose and quite obvious to everyone else the entire time. How could he have been such a dolt not to see it? Malfoy had even flirted with her right in front of him and he'd been arrogant enough to think the man was flirting with _him_! It was like Allen all over again.

Harry shuddered at the thought of his last desperate rendezvous with the man he had called his partner for over two years. He could still remember Allen's drawling Australian accent telling him he'd gotten the wrong idea. They had kissed once in the back alley of that very pub where Harry sat now. They had been celebrating a victorious day of catching a Death Eater the department had been after for over a year and perhaps celebrated too much. Harry had managed to get far too sloshed that night and Allen was even further gone if that was possible, and they'd been trying to sober up enough to Apparate home -talking about travel, what they planned to do with their life and all sorts of inane bullshit- when Allen suddenly kissed him.

That had been long before his marriage to Ginny, even before their engagement, but Harry still remembered the way Allen's lips tasted of ale and how insistent his tongue had been when probing his mouth. Harry had kissed him back and lost all sense of self as he fell into the motion. He didn't think the alcohol had addled his mind so greatly that he'd imagined how passionately Allen claimed him, but apparently he had.

Months passed and all Harry could think about when he was with his partner was that kiss. Even at the most inopportune moments, like in the middle of chasing down a suspected Death Eater, Harry's mind would drift without permission to that one moment outside his favorite pub. He went back and forth between wanting to confront the man about it to passing it off as a weird drunken fluke, but eventually he couldn't stand it any longer. He had fallen in love with Allen and he needed the man to know that, needed to see if his feelings were returned.

They weren't.

When Harry finally got the Gryffindor courage up to ask Allen about it, the man hadn't even remembered the kiss, worse still, he said he'd never felt even an inkling of romantic attraction towards him. _"We're just mates, Harry. I think you got the wrong idea," _he'd said with a careful smile.

Harry was so humiliated that he put a transfer in the very next day, asking Kingsley if he could be partnered with Ron instead and cited personal differences on the paperwork. It felt like a divorce, something he was now apparently going to be intimately familiar with. Allen left the Auror force a couple of weeks later. He'd tried to see Harry, tried to talk to him, reason with him, but Harry made himself extremely unavailable. He heard that his old partner had gone back to Australia, but tried not to think too much about it, tried not to wonder what he was up to even now, years later –not that he was successful in that mission.

Draco had reminded him of Allen so much, the way his presence seemed to dominate a room, the way his lithe body was always graceful even when simply walking across a crowded hall and, most of all, the way his voice lilted and hung in Harry's memory long after he'd stopped speaking. He could almost hear that perfect drawl even now, a sound that used to make him cringe as a student but now made him swoon as an adult.

All of his feelings for the blond were based in lies though. Harry wondered how long the affair had been going on behind his back –days, weeks, months, years? He wondered how he could have been so blind to the farce, how his keen Auror skills had failed him so completely in the wake of one of the most important discoveries he could have made. He'd caught dozens of rogue Death Eaters over the past few years and solved hundreds of cases. Why did his common sense part with him so completely when it came to his own life? He supposed his mind was only trying to protect him from the truth of what a sham his life really was. The lie was so much easier to believe.

It had been simple to assume his wife was entirely faithful to him since he'd so easily refrained from adultery himself. The knowledge of what his wife had been up to left a void inside him that Harry wondered if he could ever fill again. How could he trust someone else after this? Ginny was supposed to have been his perfect match, he'd nearly grown up with her, so if she could do this to him, then what would stop any other witch from breaking his heart in the same manner?

Although, honestly, Harry wished that he could claim his heart was broken. As it stood, the pain of a shattered heart would be a relief from the numbness that seemed to work its was into his very core. Perhaps he was still in shock over the whole ordeal, but seeing Malfoy balls deep within his wife of three years made his heart completely shut off. It felt as though there was some robot inside of him allowing his motor functions to continue while his mind whirred unhinged and his heart went on an extended leave of absence.

The sight before him as he had entered his house that afternoon only served to reaffirm something that had been niggling in the back of his mind for ages. Ginny was all wrong for him, and she probably had been from the very start. Even though she felt familiar and right in his head, if Harry thought about it, his heart had always rejected her. She was greedy, always wanting more from him, more from life, more material things. He gave into her demands most of the time, it's not as though she had many things to call her own growing up, even if she was the most spoiled of the Weasley children, what with being the only girl. She wasn't forced into hand-me-downs like Ron and the other boys were. Still, her family had been poor and Harry had done everything he could to remedy that situation with the rest of her family, why not her?

If he looked back at her history, Harry should have expected her cheating as well. Harry couldn't even count how many boyfriends she went through in school, never willing to settle on anyone. He was now convinced it was just his fame that kept her around this long –a fact proven by the man she had selected to cheat with. Only the remaining members of the 'Golden Trio' and Malfoy's fame rivaled that of his own, in fact, Malfoy might have surpassed Harry's fame as of late and Harry was more than willing to relinquish the spotlight.

Draco Malfoy.

The name made Harry growl into his nearly empty glass. Malfoy's betrayal, for some unknown reason, had actually hit Harry's heart harder than that of his wife. Deep down he supposed he'd known things were over with her for some time, but the Slytherin should have known better. Draco was supposed to be his friend. Harry had told the man things that he rarely mentioned to people who weren't close. He hated the fact that he'd grown to trust the man only to be led astray. Why was it that everyone seemed to let him down, no matter how low his expectations were?

He shook his head, trying to cast aside the feelings of betrayal he felt, but to no avail. "Another," Harry asked of the bartender, smacking his empty shot glass on the slick bar surface. He paid no mind to the nasty look he got from the barman, he'd been growing wary of Harry's intoxication through the last four shots but he never said a word as he poured another glass and slid it over to Harry, who downed it in one go.

"You may want to slow down there, Mate," called a familiar voice from behind him. Harry turned to see Ron's blue gaze watching him closely before taking the seat next to him.

"I'm not drunk," Harry announced, though Ron simply rolled his eyes.

"Of course you're not," he replied sarcastically. "How about we switch to water for a bit?" he suggested.

"Water is for wimps!" Harry declared, slamming his empty glass onto the table repeatedly until Ron snatched it out of his hand.

"Listen, Harry. When you didn't show back up at the office today, I went to your flat looking for you. I heard about what Ginny did," Ron told his inebriated friend. "We're all furious with her. You didn't deserve that, Harry."

"No. I didn't!" Harry agreed a little too loudly. "I'm a nice bloke. I'm handsome, you think I'm handsome right, Ron?"

"Er, sure," Ron conceded awkwardly.

"I have a good job, I bought her nice things," Harry continued, counting his qualities out on his fingertips. "I helped with the chores and the meals and I thought everything was good." The more Harry spoke about their relationship out loud the more it sounded to him as if he was angry with his roommate, not his wife. Sure he had taken care of her, but there was obviously plenty she wanted from him that he was simply unwilling to give. He sighed and let his head fall to the sticky bar. "I messed up."

"What?" Ron asked, not understanding. "No, not you. Gin messed up. You never did anything."

"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed, pressing his finger roughly into Ron's chest to accentuate his point. "That's exactly right. I never did _anything_. I never fulfilled her, Ron. I never made her scream my name, I never-"

"Okay, that's quite enough of that!" Ron shouted, interrupting Harry's tirade. "She is still my little sister."

"I know, Ron. That's why I married her," Harry explained. The alcohol and the fact that Ginny was now his _past_, made him feel open and free, like he could tell Ron anything. "I always knew she liked me and, even if it was for the wrong reasons, she was still a Weasley and marrying her made me a Weasley, too… but now I'm nobody, Ron."

Ron sighed and let his friend lay his sticky forehead on his shoulder. He'd never seen Harry so wasted in all his life. "You're still a Weasley if you want to be, Harry. You never had to marry Gin to get that. We've always considered you one of our own."

"Brothers," Harry mumbled against his friends shoulder.

Ron chuckled and nodded. "Right, but we've been brothers since that first day on the train."

"I love you, Ron," Harry slurred, making the redhead chuckle again.

Ron shifted Harry over to the other shoulder so he could rummage in his robe pocket. A moment later he procured a thin glass vial filled with putrid looking liquid. "Yeah, me too, Harry. Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better," he suggested, handing the vial over to his intoxicated friend.

Harry looked at it blearily before upending the vial into his mouth, choking on the sour contents inside. "Uhg!" he exclaimed, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth repeatedly to try and remove the foul taste. "What was that?"

"How do you feel?" Ron asked curiously, scrutinizing Harry's every movement.

"I feel fine, I feel… sleepy. Really… really… sleepy," he answered, the words coming slower with each enunciation until he was falling into a deep cavern of darkness.

-------------------------------------------------------

The massive ivory doors of Malfoy Manor loomed in front of her and Ginny slammed her fist against it for what felt like the hundredth time. "Open up, dammit! I know you're in there!" she shouted at the inanimate door.

Her eyes were still swollen and her cheeks were stained with tear tracks from the confrontation she'd had with Harry just hours before. She'd been crying on and off since Harry left, but at some point the tears would no longer flow, as if her eyes had just dried up and refused to let another drop fall. "Draco! Fucking open the door!"

The door finally opened but there was no elegant blond in the doorway, only a squat little House Elf. "Master Draco is not in, Miss."

"Liar!" she shouted. "You're lying to me for him."

"No, no Miss. Master Draco's not here," the Elf replied shakily, his entire body trembling with fear from the look of determination and rage in the woman's eyes.

With a flick of her wand she sent the House Elf sprawling across the hall while she stormed passed him into the foyer. There was a massive set of stairs directly in front of her and several doors on either side of the entrance hall, she wasn't sure where Draco's quarters would be but she imagined that upstairs would be the best place to start. She ran as fast as her thin legs would carry her, bursting into room after room until she found him sitting in what appeared to be an opulent study.

His fingers were trailing over a framed portrait on the desk, but she cared very little about what tender moment she might be interrupting; Ginny was furious. "Why did you just leave me to that?"

Draco looked up then, his eyes holding less shock than she would have imagined they should. "Well, aren't you just a brazen little hussy?" he asked, shaking his finger at her in mock sternness. "How did you get in?"

"Why did you do that?" she repeated, ignoring his question. "Why did you just leave me?"

Draco rolled his eyes as if the answer were quite clear to him and should be equally clear to her as well. When she continued to look at him as if he'd sprouted and extra head or three, Draco enlightened her. "I left because I had achieved what I had set out to accomplish. Your marriage with Potter is over," he replied simply.

That much was obvious. She didn't even know how she would be able to look at Harry again after what he'd walked in on. Still, breaking up the marriage had been the plan and she knew that, but the plan had also been to spend the rest of her life with Draco and the blond had abandoned her naked and crying on the floor of her flat the moment Harry had slammed the door. That kind of behavior was unacceptable. He was supposed to take care of her and love her.

"I know, but then you left me there, you didn't even defend me to him while he screamed at me. He left and you just followed him! It was as if the entire time you were really after… Harry…" she shouted, her words trailing into a soft whisper at the end as her knees felt like they were going to collapse beneath her. "That's it isn't it?"

The last year spun in a clear web before her, all their encounters, all their conversations, had never been about her at all. Some twisted part of Draco's brain thought that using her would be the perfect way to get to her husband –ex-husband.

Draco began clapping sarcastically as he got up and approached his unfortunate ex-lover. "Very good, Ginevra. I've been wondering all this time how you could possibly be so dim that you didn't understand. I told you outright on several occasions who it was I had fallen in love with and you were arrogant enough to assume I was speaking of you every time."

"You're crazy!" she shouted, narrowing her eyes. "You broke up my marriage!"

"No," Draco corrected sharply. "No, you did that all on your own. Merlin knows I never held a wand to your head and forced you to fuck me."

"You evil fucking bastard. How does this even help you? Harry's going to hate you just as much as he hates me after what he's seen!" she growled. The confusion over the entire situation made her stomach heave. She couldn't believe she had ever considered, for even a second, leaving Harry for this malicious man. He was no different from the Draco Malfoy they had grown up despising.

"We'll see about that," Draco soothed. "As you've already proven, I can be quite charming and persuasive."

"If you touch one hair on his head, I'll-" she began, but Draco promptly cut her off with a silent spell that had her clutching her throat and choking for air.

"I believe you forgot whom it was you were dealing with in the wake of your foolhardy crush," he growled, leveling his wand at her chest. "I am not to be trifled with. I do _not_ tolerate silly little witches breaking into my home and making demands or threats. I love Harry and I'm far better suited to him than you _ever_ were."

The air around Draco seemed to flutter and silvery light emanated from his body, casting the room in an eerie metallic glow that matched his eyes. Ginny gasped as he released the spell that stole her breath, and she fell to the floor, coughing painfully as she desperately took in big gulps of air to replenish her lungs while Draco scowled down at her fragile body.

"I'm a Malfoy, and Malfoys always get what they want," he told her confidently. "Unfortunately for you, I have my eyes set on what was once yours. Leave Harry alone or I'll make you regret it."

Draco didn't give her time to respond, he simply cast another silent spell and she closed her eyes against the jet of white light that crashed into her. Pain laced through her body, and when she opened her eyes again she was no longer in Draco's study. Somehow he'd pushed her through the Manor's wards and chucked her unceremoniously into the front yard by the entrance gate. She had no idea how powerful Draco actually was, but that little display made it fairly clear that Draco wasn't playing the game on the same level she was, or even Harry for that matter. Her heart stung bitterly over what the blond was going to do with her husband. It was fairly obvious the man was delusional, Harry wasn't gay, nor had he ever shown any romantic interest toward Draco. Not to mention, she knew her husband well enough to know that he would spurn any advances from the man who shagged his wife.

She couldn't believe how badly she had messed things up, and that she had done it all for nothing. Harry would surely divorce her for this, and her lover had proved nothing but a dream; even her family would be furious with her over what she'd done and she couldn't blame them. Her only hope at this point was that perhaps Ron hadn't gotten to her mum yet and she could tell her what happened in her own words before she could form any harsh judgment against her.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco paced the floor of his study after he'd sent Ginevra out of his sight. Forced Apparition was a Dark Art his father had taught him ages ago and he knew the effects of the spell would frighten and disorient the woman enough to hopefully convince her to keep her mouth shut, not that the woman had ever done anything as Draco expected. The rest of his performance was just simple lighting Charms and a spell that would make his tone sound more ominous. Parlor tricks, really, except for that nasty bit that removed all the air from her general vicinity -that was just fun.

He had expected her intrusion, welcomed it even. It was good that she now knew what game she'd been playing for over a year. A game that had little to do with her and all to do with her stunning and brilliant husband… soon to be _ex_-husband. The title thrilled him. Of course, ideally Harry should have been his from the start, never having his name sullied by being attached to someone like a Weasley, but now they shared that trait, he and Harry. It was just another thing they now had in common. Draco had been too blind to see how perfect and special Harry really was when they were at school, but now that he'd seen the man for who he was deep down, Draco desperately wanted him and would go to any lengths to possess him.

With Ginevra's unwitting assistance he'd achieved the first step of his plan, though not without causing more damage than he had originally intended. He had hoped for a clean break, to get Ginevra to leave Harry –preferably without mentioning who she was leaving him for- and then be allotted the time to make his move. Unfortunately, Harry's poor timing had ruined that option. Still, Draco was nothing if not persistent and he had an endless supply of schemes up his sleeve. Harry would still be his before long. He could already taste those sweet lips giving him his first victorious kiss.

One day soon, Harry would belong to Draco and he would be forever happy in his arms.

Author's Note: For those of you who read Becoming, I think it's fair to say that I lied about being nice to Ginny in my other stories… Also, I can only shake my head at Draco. Part of me doesn't want him to succeed, but he's a Malfoy, so it certainly won't stop him from trying everything in his underhanded arsenal to get his man.


	8. Worthless Apologies

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her beta work on this chapter.

Chapter 8 Worthless Apologies

The room spinning in Harry's vision was familiar, but not his own. The sheets tucked around him were a powdery blue and the bed frame was distressed ivory color with a darker shade peeking out from where the lighter paint was strategically peeling away. Groaning from the throbbing ache in his head, Harry sat up and stretched before reaching for a glass of water sitting next to the bed. Dappled sunlight streamed through flowery curtains casting shadows across the dark room. When the light hit the metallic silver door handle, making it sparkle and shine, Harry was briefly reminded of Malfoy's flinty gaze, a memory that made him smile involuntarily until the events of the previous day flooded back to him in one fell swoop.

The reason for him waking up in his friends' guest room suddenly made more sense than he would have liked it to. Betrayed by his wife and his friend; how could Harry's life have become such a sham? Most of his adult life had revolved around making Ginny happy, making their loveless marriage the best it could be, and she had repaid him with infidelity.

And then there was Malfoy. He supposed he should have expected as much from the icy Slytherin, but Harry honestly thought he'd sensed a change in him. Obviously he was mistaken. It seemed Draco Malfoy was still the same selfish bastard he'd loathed in school, the boy who was apparently still trying to one-up Harry, but this time the blond had gone too far.

Harry sluggishly pulled himself out of bed and scanned the room for his clothes. He found them folded neatly on a bench at the end of the bed and blushed slightly at the thought of Hermione undressing him. He knew it had to have been her because, had it been Ron, no doubt his clothes would have been piled on the floor, or more likely, still on him. He hoped he hadn't been a terrible nuisance to his friends; he only vaguely remembered Ron entering the pub to speak with him. Apparently Ron at least had forgiven his mistaken accusations, though he worried Hermione might take longer to completely forgive him. She was the type to brood quietly, so one never really knew exactly what she thought of things until she was ready to confess them, or until she got over them on her own.

After dressing, Harry crept out of the room and toward the main living area. He had no idea what time it was or if he would be interrupting anything with his being there. He heard Hermione and Ron's voices trail over to him and he paused when he heard his name.

"So, what do you think Harry will do?" Hermione asked her husband.

"I don't know, Mione. He seems pretty devastated, and rightly so. When I found Ginny at their place yesterday she was a mess, but I couldn't help thinking that she deserved it. Just the fact that she so adamantly accused Harry of being unfaithful when it was her all along made me want to disown her right there," Ron replied, sounding almost as injured as Harry felt by the betrayal.

"She's your sister, Ron," Hermione reminded him. "She made a mistake. You can't crucify her for it."

"Can't I?" Ron barked. Harry cleared his throat as he walked into the living room. He didn't want his relationship with Ginny –or lack thereof- to start more problems and arguments between Ron and Hermione then it already had.

"Thanks for your hospitality," Harry told them when they both turned to meet his gaze. "I should probably get out of your hair now."

"Nonsense," Hermione bristled and gestured for Harry to sit while she took off into the kitchen. "I have breakfast for you and I think we all need to chat."

Harry had been afraid of that. "What about?" he asked coyly.

"Don't you _'what about'_ me, Harry," she grumbled. "So far we have a vague idea of what happened from Gin, but we've been waiting for you to wake up so that you can fill us in on the rest."

"There's nothing to say really," Harry muttered darkly, wise enough not to refuse Hermione's offered seat. "I walked in on Malfoy shagging my wife and I left."

"You _walked in_ on it?" Ron blurted, his face going red. "Ginny just told me you'd found out."

"Well, she also told me that she loved me, clearly your sister has a problem with getting her facts straight," Harry replied bitterly and then snapped his mouth shut at Hermione's sharp look. "I see you're taking her side?" he commented.

"I'm not taking anyone's side," she corrected at once. "I can simply see both sides rather clearly."

"Oh, so enlighten me, Mi. What did _I _do wrong?" Harry asked, more angrily than he had intended.

"You weren't very attentive to her, Harry, and you know it," she replied. "I don't even know why you married her, you never did seem very attracted to her after the war."

"How can you say that? We tried for over a year to have children," Harry protested.

"And perhaps if you'd been successful this wouldn't have happened, or perhaps bringing children into a loveless marriage would have made this divorce that much worse," she reasoned calmly.

Harry's jaw dropped. He had thought the word 'divorce' over and over since his recent discovery, but hearing it out loud and directed at him so bluntly had a sobering effect. He sunk further into his chair and knew he probably looked as defeated as he felt. "It's over, isn't it?" he whispered, more for his own benefit than his friends'.

Hermione stopped what she was doing and threw a tender arm around her friend, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "I'm sorry, Harry, but yes, I'm afraid it is."

-------------------------------------------------------------

Draco knew he had to play things very carefully within the next few days. If he tried to contact Harry too soon the Gryffindor would no doubt blow up at him, but if he waited too long he knew he would just look guiltier than he already was.

Not for the first time, Draco wondered why he hadn't just hired someone else to seduce Ginevra, but in the end he was always reminded that he couldn't count on anyone but himself, so he'd done the awful deed on his own.

And awful it was. Draco must have gone through more soap in the last year than he had his entire life just trying to wash Ginevra off of him. He could only hope now that the effort had been worth it and that Harry would eventually see that they were meant to be together. Now that he'd made the perfect picture in his head of how their life together could be -a small and tasteful wedding, a cozy cottage by the seaside, and two beautiful children to dote on –he couldn't imagine his life any other way.

All he needed now was for Harry to open up to him and realize that he too would adore the life that Draco was ready to build for them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry could see Ginny's face in the Floo, and even surrounded by green flames it looked like she'd been crying for weeks. It was impossible, of course, as it had only been two days since Harry had left her, but she looked terrible.

"Harry needs to get into the house to fetch his things," Ron was telling her.

"And I don't want her there when I do," Harry clarified from over his friends shoulder, though he refused to speak to Ginny directly.

"And he doesn't want-" Ron began, but Ginny just shook her head and let out another strangled sob.

"I heard him," she murmured. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"I don't want to hear it, Gin," Harry huffed. "I'll come by while you're at work tomorrow and I hope you have the dignity to keep away while I'm there."

"Please, could we just meet for a moment? I want a chance to explain things and there is something you need to know about Malfoy," she pleaded.

"Absolutely not!" Harry shouted, starting to get angry; he couldn't believe she had the nerve to want to talk to him about her _lover_ of all things. "If you won't agree to stay away from the flat tomorrow, I'll have to send Ron after my things. Then my lawyer can send you a list of anything that is missing."

"A lawyer?" she gasped. "You already have a lawyer?"

"Yes," he replied at once. "Hermione will be representing me. I suggest you find someone as well." He didn't want to admit it out loud but he had secretly enjoyed the look of dismay on his wife's face when he'd told her that their friend would be representing him in their divorce.

"I see," Ginny replied, drawing herself up and composing her face into a more neutral expression. Harry figured Malfoy had probably taught her how to do that. "Well, I'll remain at work while you raid our home," she sniped and ended the Floo call rather abruptly.

"I'd say that went… er… well," Ron noted when Harry walked back toward the sitting room and plopped down in the nearest couch. He really needed to find somewhere else to stay. Ron and Hermione were great but he missed being able to come home and relax in a space that was just his. Besides, at this rate he wouldn't have anywhere for Teddy to stay next weekend if he didn't find a new place to live soon.

He grabbed the _Daily Prophet_ and began circling flats for lease in the classified ads while Ron prattled on about his sister. "She seems pretty broken up over this."

"I can't help that," Harry muttered. "She made her own bed and then she fucked someone else in it."

Ron winced and wandered off, noting that Harry was still being rightfully bitter over the whole ordeal. He felt terrible for his friend, and even worse that it had been his sister to create all the damage, but he was at a loss as to what to do about it.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Work went tediously slow on Monday, but Harry was surprised to learn that Ron had pulled his name from being considered for Head Auror when they returned to work the next day. Harry didn't want a pity election into the position, in fact, he wasn't even sure he wanted the job at all, but he had to admit that Ron was far too hotheaded to lead the entire Auror department. He fleetingly wondered if McGonagall had any potions open at Hogwarts that he might be qualified to fill.

He was almost through a pile of parchments when he spotted a brilliant red envelope in the stack. Carefully he pulled it out to keep the other papers from toppling over, and almost threw it in the garbage when he saw it was from Draco Malfoy. Instead he held it in his hands and simply stared at it for a while.

Eventually he yielded, curiosity getting the better of him, and opened the envelope.

_Harry, _

_If you didn't throw this in the rubbish from the start, I thank you. I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry for the way things went the other day and that I meant you no disrespect. Ginevra has been dishonest with both of us it seems._

_She told me that you were aware of our affair and consenting of it. I must admit I had my doubts, but after you yourself told me that you and your wife had not been intimate in quite some time I assumed she was being truthful with me._

_Seeing that I caused you pain has left me broken, Harry. I want nothing more than to find a way to make my transgressions up to you. I'll be at the pub you frequent tonight, and I would love it if you gave me the opportunity to apologize in person._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

Harry took great pleasure in crumbling the parchment into a ball and tossing it in the bin. What the hell was Malfoy thinking trying to reach out to him like this? The man fucked his wife for Merlin's sake. What did he expect, a high five and a membership into the 'Ginny's a Slag' club?

Still, part of him itched for details about what went on behind his back. Had it been a one-time thing? It certainly didn't sound like it, so, how long had it been going on? Days? Weeks? Months? Maybe Malfoy would know if there was anyone else she'd been unfaithful with.

His marriage was ruined, his mind was a mess, and he had no place to live, but perhaps he could get a free pint out of the deal. He was probably going to the pub after work regardless, so why not see if he could get some answers for the questions that had been driving him crazy these last few days.

He didn't bother responding to Malfoy's letter. Harry figured that he would just show up and if Malfoy was there, great, and if he wasn't, even better.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pub was filled with patrons when Harry arrived, but none of them had the telltale platinum blond hair of the Slytherin prat he was meeting there. After scanning the crowd a few times, making sure he hadn't overlooked anyone, Harry finally settled on a stool at the bar and ordered a Firewhiskey.

It was odd to him that he felt mildly disappointed that the blond hadn't shown, but eventually he just shrugged it off as for the best. He didn't know what he would do if he saw the Slytherin now, not after what he'd seen just a couple of days ago.

Harry had been there for almost an hour when he felt a hand press into his shoulder. "Harry?" Draco greeted, his thick drawl making Harry's insides boil. "You came." Draco looked fine, completely unconcerned by his actions as he stood there behind Harry's seat. His gray eyes were expectant and Harry suddenly wanted to be anything but predictable and kind.

Without letting himself think about it, Harry hurled his fist into the face of the self-satisfied git. He heard the crunch of Draco's bone breaking and was momentarily pleased that the man would be drinking a hefty dose of Skelegrow before bed tonight. Just seeing the man's smug face drenched in blood and marred by the broken nose Harry had given him, made him smile inwardly.

Draco blinked, apparently still in shock, and his hand flew to cover his bleeding nose. "I suppose I deserve that," he muttered through his fingers, his speech impaired and nasally from his injury.

The adrenaline had worn off and suddenly Harry was feeling terrible. He raided a bunch of napkins from the bar and stuffed them into Draco's hand, who in turn crammed them against his nostrils to staunch the bleeding. "Well, no one could ever say that you punch like a girl, Potter," Draco grumbled as he took a seat next to the spontaneously violent man.

"Malfoy, I'm so sorr-" Harry began, but Draco cut him off with a harsh shake of his head, before wincing from the movement.

"Don't you dare apologize to me, Harry," Draco sighed. "This is the least I deserve for ruining your marriage."

"You didn't ruin it alone," Harry huffed and leaned over his empty glass. After a moment, once all the adrenaline had run its course, Harry lifted his wand to heal the bond's fractured nose. Light glimmered across his pale face for a moment before vanishing and leaving the blond looking as prefect as he'd been when Harry met him on his first trip to Diagon Alley. Traces of blood were still visible, but Harry had repaired the significant part of the damage and he didn't feel up to granting any more favors for the lecherous Slytherin.

"Two of what Harry's having," Draco called out to the bartender, who eyed them both with unease. It seemed he was going to let the pair stay so long as there were no more punches thrown. "Yes, I did," Draco answered, turning his attention back to Harry.

"I still can't believe she did this to me," Harry murmured, more to himself than to Draco. "How long?"

Draco winced and looked as though he was in great pain but the nose was healed now, so Harry assumed it was emotional, not physical. "About a year," he admitted at last.

"A year!" Harry exclaimed, his voice rising in such a way that Draco held his hand up to protect his face in case Harry wasn't quite finished pummeling him.

Harry's hands formed into fists at his side, but he merely used them to grind into his own skull with frustration. "How could I have been so blind?"

"Part of the reason I assumed she was being honest with you was because I never got a confrontation of any kind from you. You have to believe me, Harry. I didn't do any of this to hurt you," Draco sighed, and Harry was surprised to find that Draco actually meant that.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," Harry muttered after a pregnant pause. "Everything is crumbling down around me."

"Where are you staying?" Draco pried. "At the flat I would assume?"

"No," Harry grumbled darkly. "I can't even look at that place without remembering what happened there. I picked up most of my things today, but they are sitting in storage. I'm staying with Ron and Hermione at the moment, but I want to find my own place."

"You could stay with me," Draco offered. "It's the least I could do to help out, and the Manor has plenty of guest suites so you could have your privacy."

"I couldn't impose," Harry replied quickly. It bothered him how much the prospect of seeing Draco everyday appealed to him. "I already have some places to contact. I circled a few of the flats that sounded like potential new bachelor pads." Harry produced the paper and showed Draco the circled advertisements.

"They are all through Midge's real estate company," Draco observed. "She's an old friend of mine. I can check on these for you."

"That's not necessary," he replied, blushing slightly at Draco's abundance of attention. "But maybe you could look through the list and let me know if any of them seem promising to you? I'll be right back."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco watched as Harry left, heading for the loo, and immediately reached into his pocket for the Muggle cell phone he always carried. Wizarding society had no equivalent for the convenience of instant communication, no fireplace required. And no equivalent for computers, Internet, or television, much to Draco's dismay, so he often reverted to Muggle technology. He quickly dialed the number listed and was pleased when Midge picked up. "I need a favor," he said, forgoing a greeting, and she instantly knew who she was talking to.

"Anything for you, Draco dear," she cooed. The old bat had been angling to get in his pants for years. Why did no one realize he was queer? It had taken thinking of a naked Harry Potter passionately shouting out his name to get it up for Ginevra.

"Your current flat listings, can I rent them?" he asked.

She giggled as if the request were unexpected. "Which one, Honey?"

"All of them," Draco replied. "But I'll need a month to month contract."

Her giggle turned quickly into dead silence. "That would be several hundred galleons a month worth of property, Draco. Some of these are just right down the street from one another, why do you need all that?"

"Midge, have you ever known money to be an issue when it came to me?" Draco spoke clearly and firmly, making sure Midge knew he was in a hurry. "And as to why I need them, I don't think that should concern you. Just draw up the papers and send them to my office. I'll sign them tonight."

"Consider it done," she replied at last and Draco hung up the phone and pocketed it as Harry walked back.

"You have a cell phone?" Harry asked, mildly bemused.

"Yes, but I have bad news. I just spoke to Midge and she said all her current properties are under contract," Draco told him, trying his best to look disappointed for the raven-haired man.

"All of them?" Harry asked, looking skeptical.

"I'm afraid so," Draco sighed. "My offer still stands though. I'm sure you're itching to get out of the Weasley-Granger household."

Harry seemed taken aback by the new development and looked conflicted. "I'll have to think about it," he said at last.

"Fair enough," Draco replied with a growing smile. He could tell that Harry was still upset, but he seemed far more upset at Ginevra than he did with him. Although, his still aching nose was proof enough that Harry still felt rage toward his old foe, but he knew it wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

Things were finally falling into place.

Author's Note: So, here's the thing. This story is taking a few unexpected turns on me, and I'm carefully adapting the plot, but I think in the end the new story will be far more realistic than anything I had planned. I'm letting Draco continue with this creepy streak and we'll see where that leads him. Harry has a lot of soul searching to do.


	9. No Good Options

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her beta work on this chapter. I'm having a blast with crazy stalker Draco and this chapter sheds a bit more light on Harry.

Chapter 9 No Good Options

Despite what everyone probably thought of him after the fiasco with his wife –_ex_-wife he had to keep reminding himself- Harry was no fool. Now that he'd been tricked in the worst way, his eyes were wide-open when it came to his personal life. He was more observant than ever. He noticed the small possessive gestures between Ron and Hermione, a hand on her back here, a smoldering gaze there; all things that he'd never really had with Ginny and never paid much attention before. The Weasley-Granger marriage was the way a marriage should be. Sure they fought occasionally and frequently disagreed, but they always worked through whatever stood between them because they loved one another. Harry was starting to see more and more that he hadn't loved Ginny, not the way a husband should have, and had he realized this a couple years ago it might have caused everyone a lot less heartache, especially himself.

A Time Turner, however, was a thing he didn't possess, so there wasn't much to be done aside from making sure he never made such a massive mistake ever again.

He didn't tell his friends about his meeting with Malfoy, nor the subject of their awkward discussion. Harry had no intention of setting foot in the home of the man who had shagged his wife ever again, so there was no way in hell he would be making Malfoy Manor his residence for any length in time. He was trying his best to be polite to the man who was apparently duped just as thoroughly as Harry himself had been, but his civility toward the blond was wavering and had only held thus far because of the guilt he felt at his violent initial reaction to seeing him there.

It had been childish and petty of him to lash out and hit the man, bringing back old animosity in the worst way, so Harry had tried to call a truce between them –for the night at least. He hoped he would never have to see the blond again, but he knew in such a tight knit wizarding community that the idea of never setting eyes on Draco Malfoy was nearly impossible to achieve. Doubtless there would be some mutual function they would have to attend or some other reason that would cause them to cross paths, and Harry hoped he could keep his detachment around him like a comforting blanket to avoid another outburst as had happened in the pub.

Ron would probably pay galleons for the memory of Harry punching Draco squarely in the nose, but that would require more explaining than Harry was willing to do, so Ron remained in the dark about the entire exchange, bludgeoning included.

On his lunch break, Harry hustled over to the office of Midge Pennyworth, the woman who leased the flats Harry was most interested in. As he entered the two-story townhouse that Midge used as her office, Harry found it mostly empty. There was no receptionist at the desk and no one in the small lobby either. Harry wondered if perhaps the staff was out to lunch as well when he heard a noise from the back, a woman humming.

Being nosey, Harry strode toward the sound and found Midge in her office, smiling at a thick set of documents. "Mrs. Pennyworth?" Harry inquired and the woman looked up with a start.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, do come in," she chimed, bustling over to shake his hand. He'd never met the woman, but nearly every witch and wizard in England knew his face, so it wasn't surprising that she'd recognized him without having to introduce himself.

Midge was a short, thin woman, but her round face indicated that she might not have always been that slim. She wore a beige skirt and white blouse with dark amber robes instead of a jacket and her graying hair was pulled back into a loose twist. She beamed at Harry when she took her seat again and Harry smiled back, hoping she could help him with his living arrangements in a quick and efficient manner.

"How can I help you, Mr. Potter?" she asked, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Well, I'm in the market for a new flat. Nothing too large or extravagant, but close to work with at least two bedrooms and two baths," he explained before pulling out the paper he'd marked up. "I've circled some of the listings you advertised in the _Prophet_ recently, but an acquaintance of mine said they were all leased. I wondered if you might have anything else available?"

"Oh dear," she replied, her face falling as she glanced from the paper to the heaping pile of documents in front of her. "I'm afraid I don't have a single other property at the moment."

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples to ward off a headache he could sense coming on. Pennyworth Realty was the only company who leased magical real estate in London and Harry didn't want to be forced into a Muggle development or outside of the city he loved. "You're certain that there isn't even one flat left? Maybe I could rent something smaller or larger than the ones I circled until something else comes available?"

"I'm afraid I have nothing just yet. A prominent businessman rented my entire inventory just last night. I don't know what he could possibly need them all for, but he just returned the signed paperwork to me this morning. I should have some new listings within the month, I could owl you when something comes available," she suggested with an apologetic smile.

"Who rented them all? Perhaps I could speak with him persuade him to let go of one of the flats?" he countered. He didn't want to wait until something new came on the market, he was eager to settle into a place of his own before Teddy's next visit.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, I'm sure you understand that confidentiality is of the utmost importance to us here at Pennyworth Realty. You certainly wouldn't want us giving out your contact information to strangers, now would you? I have to protect all of my clients in the same manner," she informed Harry politely.

Harry nodded, suitably chastised. It was true enough; he wouldn't feel comfortable leasing a flat from someone willing to give away personal information so easily. Still, he needed a place to live and soon. He started to ask if she had a specific date that she suspected something else might come up, perhaps one of her current leases was expiring soon, but the bell for the exterior door chimed alerting Midge that she had another client.

"Would you excuse me for just a moment, Mr. Potter? I'm afraid my secretary, Emily, has taken a personal day," she asked and Harry nodded graciously. No doubt a receptionist wouldn't be very necessary if there wasn't a thing to lease at the moment.

Harry sighed and looked around the expansive office after she'd left. There were portraits of her family –a husband and two little girls - sitting on her desk, which was reasonably tidy, compared to his own at least. Several locked filing cabinets were pressed up against the wall and there was a large bay window looking out over a quaint little garden. His gaze drifted over to the pile of paperwork he noticed sitting on her desk –the only clutter there- and his mind began to whirl with unusually cunning thoughts. Those papers had to be the contracts for the flats he wanted to lease. He could easily peek over and see whom the leases were made out to; even a name would be enough because he could get the contact information for the person from the Ministry archives. It would just take a moment and Midge would never have to know.

No, he decided. He couldn't do that. The information, as she'd pointed out, was confidential and none of his business. He'd just need to wait until something else came available and hope that it would be soon. Morally, his heart knew refraining was the right thing to do, but it didn't explain why he was standing up and creeping over to her desk, or why he sifted through the top stack of documents to see the name _Draco A. Malfoy_ written in careful script on the third page.

It couldn't be…surely Malfoy wasn't so insane as to buy up all the properties available in London? Why would he do such a thing? Why would he be striving to make Harry's life so miserable? First he broke up his marriage, and now he'd decided to abscond with every vacant property he could move into? What was he playing at? Why did the man hate him so much? Harry thought that they'd moved past all their childhood differences, but obviously not. Was this in retaliation for the broken nose? He certainly hadn't seemed too angry over it; he'd seemed more resigned than anything.

Harry flipped through the other pages just to confirm his suspicion that Malfoy had leased _every_ property in London and then fled the office, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Pennyworth," Harry mentioned to the woman as he passed her in the hall. "I'm running late, but please Floo me when you have something that I could look at."

Harry left the realtor's office filled with confusion, but instead of going back to his own office, he Apparated to Malfoy Manor.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Draco was eating lunch alone in his formal dining room - a salad composed of fresh, leafy greens, rich Gorgonzola cheese, almonds and thinly sliced duck breast - when an unexpected guest barged in. He often took a long lunch, Apparating back to the manor instead of going out and today he was pleased he did. He hadn't predicted Harry would come to him so quickly with an acceptance to his proposal of living there at the manor, so he beamed when he saw the man approach, however, the smile quickly dropped from his face when he saw anger gleaming in the other man's eyes.

"Harry?" Draco asked, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What brings you here?"

"Don't you 'Harry' me," the dark-haired man growled. "What are you playing at?"

"I don't know what you mean," Draco replied, and he honestly didn't. What could have gone wrong in the hours since they'd chatted amicably at the pub? Perhaps Ginevra went to him to spill his secret after all.

"Come off it, Malfoy," Harry spat. "Why are you trying to ruin my life?"

"Ruin it?" Draco gaped, "I don't want to ruin it. I want to make it better."

"And you think that keeping me from moving out of the Weasley's house is making my life better?" Harry asked incredulously.

Apparently it wasn't Ginevra who squawked then, it was Midge. Draco was going to have to do something about that woman's big mouth. "I'm still not understanding, what's upsetting you, Harry?" he replied calmly. "I haven't done a thing to prevent your departure from the Weasley home. I even offered you private quarters here," Draco reminded him.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly and then almost instantly widened as he came to another frightening conclusion. "Did you lease up all those flats so that…so that I'd agree to live _here_?" The look on Harry's face made it clear to Draco that he thought the idea to be preposterous and, by the confusion flitting through his beautiful green gaze, Draco thought that perhaps Harry was regretting voicing his theory since it sounded so completely ludicrous.

"Actually, I have several clients Flooing in from the states and I needed accommodations for them all. They'll be here for almost a month, so leasing was a better option than getting them each hotel rooms. My firm made all the arrangements, I'm afraid and I only discovered they had absconded with all the flats last night when I called Midge for you," Draco lied smoothly enough. "I know I should have told you last night, but I didn't want to cause any further animosity between us. I think you and I could be excellent friends."

Harry blinked and looked slightly uncomfortable. "That's a fairly elaborate lie, Malfoy," he said at last.

It was then that Draco noticed a faint glow emanating from his pale skin. "You placed a Detector Charm on me." It was more of a statement than a question. Draco should have known better, really. Harry was an Auror after all; of course he'd have acute knowledge of the newly developed Charm that would indicate when a person was lying. It couldn't force them to tell the truth like Veritaserum could, but if the subject was being knowingly deceptive the Charm would pick up on it and create a soft white glow around the liar.

Draco hadn't even noticed Harry casting it when he walked in, which only made Draco want him more. Harry was clever, powerful and cunning –the perfect match for someone as completely Slytherin as Draco Malfoy.

Harry inclined his head slightly to let Draco know that was exactly what he'd done. "Care to tell me the truth now?"

Draco sighed and shook his head. He couldn't tell Harry everything yet, not when he was still so far from winning the man's heart. On the other hand, he knew that if he let Harry leave thinking that he was simply trying to be petty and malicious, the winning of his heart might prove to be an impossible task, even for him. As Harry stared at him, Draco wondered what to do. He couldn't lie, but he couldn't tell the truth either. He was stuck.

It wasn't until Harry turned to leave that Draco was forced to act, he was seconds away from losing everything he'd worked so hard for and it made him desperate. "Wait!" he pleaded, rushing over and snagging the arm of Harry's well-tailored cloak. The man turned and brushed Draco's hand away before raising his eyebrows in clear question. "I rented all those flats to try and persuade you to take me up on my offer to stay here."

Harry looked him over and seemed satisfied –yet distinctly not- by the fact that Draco wasn't glowing from his Charm. "Why? Why do you want me to stay here so badly?"

"I want you around," Draco admitted with some reluctance. "Its lonely here, and I figure we have a lot in common." This was all true, and Draco could admit all of this easily enough without professing his love and frightening Harry away for good. It was enough of the truth to satisfy the Charm, leaving his skin glowing only from its natural luminosity rather than the effects of the spell.

"We don't have that much in common," Harry muttered, but Draco could tell he was thinking it over.

"I think you'd be surprised how much. Perhaps we could move on from this whole unpleasant business with Ginevra together," Draco suggested, although the word _together_ bore more meaning to him than it probably did to Harry.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Harry replied, his face set into a cautious mask. "A few weeks ago I would have thought us friends but, Malfoy, _you slept with my wife for a whole year_. How am I supposed to get over that?"

For the first time in a long time, Draco didn't have an answer. He had assumed that with careful coaxing the Gryffindor would see him as an ally, not the enemy, but that wasn't the case at all. The man was being amicable, but it was pretty clear that Harry wanted nothing to do with him despite the anger that was void from his tone. "Would you believe that I did it all for you?" Draco asked, his voice a mere whisper.

Harry laughed; his entire body shook with it until he saw that Draco's skin lacked the glow that would tell Harry that Draco was lying. "Wait," he said, his laughter dying abruptly on his lips, "what exactly is it that you did for _me_?"

"All of it," Draco told him, forced to show his hand of cards and see what would come of it. "I respect you, Harry. I think you're everything I've ever been looking for and I want you by my side."

"You…you're not talking about friendship or business are you?" Harry stammered, his throat drying up at Draco's words.

"No," Draco confirmed, his face carefully blank. "I'm not."

"You want a romantic relationship with me." It wasn't phrased as a question, but Draco answered anyway.

"I do, yes."

Harry shook his head as if he was trying to clear his hair of cobwebs, his eyes blinking rapidly as his mind spun circles from Draco's words. This was an overload of epiphanies, more than one person could reasonably be expected to process, and Harry was suddenly sorry he'd decided to confront the blond. "I have to go," he said at last and he walked to the door as quickly as his legs would carry him, grateful that Draco didn't try to stop him this time. He didn't know what he would do if he'd felt the man grab him again.

Draco sighed as he watched Harry leave him, knowing that there was a very good chance the man would never come back. The steps he'd taken to win Harry seemed foolish now in the brilliant green light of Harry's incredulous gaze. How they'd made sense at the time, Draco didn't know, but all he could do was stand rooted to the spot as his love stormed out the door.

-------------------------------------------------------

Deceit was a good title to put on it, but Harry could think of a few more colorful things to call what Draco had just admitted to moments ago. If what Draco had alluded to was true, then Harry had a mess on his hands that was far more monumental than he'd ever thought possible; he had a failed marriage, no home to call his own, heavy questions about his sexuality, and a beautiful stalker who just might be completely insane.

Harry just wanted to go to sleep for a very long time and wake up to find that everything was back to normal. He and Teddy could play in the yard while Ginny fixed lunch and then Harry could fantasize about Malfoy as he wanked himself to sleep that night. It might be dysfunctional, but it was far preferable than the realizations he'd come to that afternoon.

Could it really be possible that Draco had arranged an elaborate scheme of sleeping with Ginny for a year just to cause their marriage to dissolve so that he could claim Harry as his own? Who would do such a crazy thing? _Draco Malfoy_, his mind answered easily enough.

Harry shook his head again. This line of thinking was making him dizzy. It was such a ridiculous plan; faulty and foolish on so many levels that Harry could scarcely comprehend them all. Briefly he considered apologizing to Ginny, she was obviously seduced by a madman, but he quickly realized that madman or not, she'd still slept with him while she was married to Harry. She deserved what she got. For a fleeting second Harry even considered the gesture might have been intended as flattering. That someone would go to such extremes to win his affection was oddly warming, but he was often barraged with loony suitors who went to distant lengths to pursue a relationship with The Boy Who Lived so it wasn't really working. However, after evaluating the act itself he couldn't muster up the energy to feel flattered, he only felt ill.

If Malfoy had wanted him so badly, why couldn't he have simply told him? Merlin knew that Harry had felt a stirring of lust for the man, one he might have acted upon if he'd known the feeling was returned. But then his heart told him no, that wasn't true at all. Harry wasn't a cheater and he would have never divorced his wife so that he could be with Malfoy. In a very sick and twisted way Draco had known the only thing that would cause him to divorce Ginny. Unfaithfulness he just couldn't cope with.

But the way he went about it! For a _year_!

The plan was just so baffling that Harry couldn't even look at it from a proper perspective. Luckily, he didn't have to, for at that moment, Ron knocked on the frame of his open door and strode into his office. "Pub?" he asked and Harry nodded vehemently.

"I'm going to need a beer, Ron, a very, _very_ large beer. Maybe a few of them," Harry confided in his friend, though he knew he could never tell the redhead what he'd found out today. How could he even begin to explain it to Ron when he didn't understand it himself?

"No good options then, huh?" Ron asked and Harry knew the man was talking about flats. His friend probably assumed he'd spent his entire lunch hour looking for places that didn't fit his needs or match his taste, but what Ron didn't know what how accurate his words actually were.

"No, Ron. There are no good options at all."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Tee hee. So the sweater is unraveling and leaving Draco nude and quite chilly on the stairs... sorry. I think this story is so much fun and I love the new turn it took, so far off from my original plan but so much better!!


	10. Regrettably

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for beta reading this chapter for me. I have exciting things in mind for our boys.

Chapter 10 Regrettably

Draco had never felt so unsure in all his life, and it wasn't a good feeling at all. He was used to a sense of sly confidence but he had learned only too late how clever Harry really was. That lie detector spell had been sheer brilliance, and Draco chastised himself over and over for not having the forethought to counteract such a measure. Had he been courting a fellow Slytherin, he surely would have cast a Finite spell before speaking and it was probably his oversight of Harry's Slytherin tendencies that upset him the most. It would have been so easy to outmaneuver if he hadn't underestimated the man. And that was his fault alone.

There was nothing to be done about it now. It would be wrong to try and erase Harry's memory of his confession and he'd already done enough wrong to the man. Unfortunately, now he had no idea what he could do to make it all up to him. At no point while executing his plan had he ever thought for a moment that Harry would reject him. They were so well suited that it was uncanny and Draco assumed that Harry would see that too and relent, regardless of how angry he was at Draco for a while. His father's advice about assuming rang loudly in his ears, but he quickly brushed it aside. It was too late for all of that now.

He was left at a loss as to what Harry would value that only he could provide for him. He hadn't been prepared to tell the man everything, or for him to so quickly decipher the plan, but part of him felt light and relieved that it was finally out in the open.

Now all he had to do was convince Harry that they belonged together, which was turning out to be more difficult than Draco had ever imagined.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been ages since Harry had visited Godric's Hollow and he could have gone ages more. The place rather gave him the creeps, but at this point there weren't a lot of options left to him. Grimmauld Place had been sold to purchase the flat he and Ginny had bought together in London and, at the moment, she was living comfortably there and according to their last fire call, she intended to keep it.

Harry didn't care. He was happy to be rid of the place that had held so many nasty memories, but now it seemed he was just exchanging it for a home that held even more. His birthplace was a ruined manor; its roof in shambles and the entire home was in a general state of disrepair. If he listened closely he could still hear his mother's screams from inside. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the tiny hanging gate aside and stepped into the yard.

He never thought he'd be put in a position where he would be considering polishing the home back to its original shine, but he'd never had the heart to sell it either, so here he was. There was a gaping hole in one part of the ceiling where it had been blasted to bits on the second floor, and there was no telling what he'd find inside. He steeled himself as he realized that today was the day he would have to discover a part of himself he'd been too afraid to see his whole life.

The cobblestone path leading up to the house was uneven and overgrown with weeds. He'd probably have to rip the whole thing up and reset it before it would lay smooth for people to walk upon. All the windows were all Victorian stained glass and were probably beautiful in their time. They depicted muted pictures of flowers in frosted blues and faint purples, though now they were grimy and some of them were cracked or shattered in their frames. Columns flanked the entryway and flowering vines overran each one. This was the only thing so far that Harry didn't think he'd change about the front. He liked the effect it created and decided that just a little pruning would make it look perfectly presentable.

The red door hung loosely on its hinges and Harry had to shove it quite hard to get it to budge enough to allow him to slip through. To his relief, all signs of the tragedy that had taken place here were long erased by decades of neglect and the debris from the battle itself. The foyer was small, he could almost touch both sides of it when standing in the center, and there was a dusty coat rack to one side with a moth eaten hat resting on it. He stared at the hat for a long moment, picturing his father placing it there upon coming home after a long day's work and then shook himself and turned to face the rest of the house. Straight ahead was a half-wall with a bench and directly above that was the banister for the stairs. They made a sort of 'L' in the narrow space, which Harry quite liked, but he ignored them for the moment. He wasn't ready to revisit his old room yet.

To each side of the foyer there was an elegant archway, one leading to a dining room and one leading to a sitting room. There wasn't a lot of damage to the structure down here. Just a couple of scorch marks on the walls, which was something Harry refused to acknowledge just yet. He knew his father had died downstairs trying to keep Voldemort from him and his mother, but he couldn't think about any of that at the moment, not with the sting he already felt in his eyes.

Most of the furniture would have to be replaced. It reeked of mildew and some of the wood was gnawed and falling apart. No doubt several creatures had made this place their home over the years it had sat abandoned. The dining room and kitchen seemed in decent shape, though he wagered the appliances would never work properly. Downstairs he discovered a half-bath, a guest bedroom, and a sort of den area where he found some baby toys that must have been his.

He took several deep and steady breaths at the bottom of the staircase knowing he would find his nursery where his mother died to save his life. He felt unprepared and unable to make it all the way to the top, it suddenly seemed so far and his heart felt as though it might give out if he tried. He took one tentative step to place his foot on the first stair and then he waited –for what, he had no idea. His heart didn't slow in its tumultuous thrumming and he was rooted to the spot. "I can't do it," he told the house. "How can I live here if I can't even make it up these stairs?"

The house didn't reply, and Harry took in the silence of the home and the light streaming in from the top of the stairs and he sighed, forcing himself to ascend. The hallway felt narrow, but that was most likely his own anxiety making everything feel as though it was crushing in around him. Several doors led off from the landing but only one of them was open, and that was the room he didn't want to see. From the hall he could make out a black stain on the carpet where his mother must have fallen, and in the corner, a crib. His crib. The place he'd been sleeping when Voldemort attacked his home, and his family, and his life, and destroyed it all.

Now look where he was, back to the beginning. And why? Because he'd tried to make a life for himself and he'd failed. Suddenly it all came swooping down on him, the deterioration of his marriage, the betrayal of Draco and worse, the loss of his future and dreams. Harry collapsed to his knees under the weight of it all and let the tears stream unwaveringly down his cheeks.

Just as quickly as the wave of depression hit him, it evaporated, but it had still left its mark. He couldn't stand another moment in that house, so he took the stairs two at a time and bolted out the door as if he had an enemy on his heels –and in a way he did. As soon as he reached the broken cobblestone walkway, he turned and faced the home one final time before shouting 'Incendio' and watching the nightmares of his childhood erupt in flames.

When the home was nothing but a smoldering pile of ashes, Harry put out the fire and left Godric's Hollow for good, closing another chapter of his life in the mission to move on.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry wasn't really in the mood for any visitors, and the one person he certainly didn't want to see leaning against his closed office door as if he owned the entire building, was Draco Malfoy. He still didn't know how he felt about the man or even what to say to him. The Slytherin had made and executed a duplicitous plan to bed his wife and destroy their marriage. He had no idea what had gone through the blond's head, but even if his intention had been to build a happy life for the two of them, Draco was sorely out of line.

He ignored the blond outright as he made his way into his office after the exhausting trip to Godric's Hollow that morning. He probably looked a mess, but since he wasn't trying to impress the Slytherin lingering in his doorway, he tried not to care. Instead he focused on the large pile of parchments in front of him and pretended there wasn't an attractive man who was crazy (literally) about him hovering just outside his office.

When it became apparent that his stalker refused to leave, Harry turned his attention to the man hoping he might find a way to make him bugger off so he could get some work done. "What can I do for you, Malfoy?" he asked reluctantly, afraid of what the answer might be.

"It's more what _I_ can do for _you_," Draco replied easily as though Harry hadn't ignored him for the past twenty minutes, and he took a seat across from Harry's desk as if he'd been invited.

Harry narrowed his eyes and gave the man the full weight of his stare, which had made grown men cower but didn't even make Draco flinch. "I think you've done quite enough for me already, thanks."

"Not so," Draco corrected. "All this time I've been selfish, thinking only what I could do to win your affection, which would make _me_ very happy. I wasn't thinking about _you_ and your needs."

Harry's eyebrow lifted slightly to indicate that he thought the Slytherin was trying to be sneaky again. "So?"

"So, now you need a place to live and I have all the available flats in London. I'd like to let you see them, and if there is one that you like, it will be yours," he finished, looking as if he might be expecting praise of some kind.

"I would say that was rather generous of you except that you rented them all to try and put me under your thumb, so I think I'll decline and find someplace of my own," Harry stated levelly. "Was that all?"

Draco's eyes widened just a fraction before they returned to their normal cool indifference. "What if there were no strings attached? I could break the lease and you could form a new one with the realtor."

"You would do that?" Harry asked, suddenly intrigued. He was in desperate need of a place to stay and he didn't know what else to do. He'd live out of a hotel if he must, but then his visits with Teddy would have to be postponed and he didn't want that.

"For a price, of course," Draco replied.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head in dismay. He couldn't believe he'd ever thought this man was capable of being a good match for him. "Goodbye, Malfoy," he droned and then went back to his paperwork.

"Don't you even want to hear what the price would be?" he asked, not taking the hint for him to leave.

"Knowing you, it would be more than I can afford," Harry replied and made a shooing motion toward the door.

"Dinner," Draco blurted.

Harry looked up briefly from his paperwork to narrow his eyes at the blond. "You want me to take you to dinner in exchange for a flat?"

"No," Draco corrected. "I want you to let _me_ take _you_ to dinner. I would break the lease and incur all the penalties associated with that and I would buy you dinner at any restaurant of your choosing. Just give me a chance, Harry."

The man's tone was pleading, but Harry was extremely cautious. Draco had already proven his penchant for smooth lies and underhanded dealings; Harry refused to let the man fool him again.

"I'm sorry," Harry sighed. "It's too great a cost."

"Lunch," Draco amended but Harry shook his head. "Breakfast then, though I would prefer it came after we spent the night together."

Harry laughed. He couldn't control it as the chuckled erupted from his throat. He found Draco so annoyingly charming, but it was too much too soon. "Malfoy, I just need some time and some space."

Draco sighed and looked genuinely defeated. "I see," he replied softly and then slid a parchment on top of the stack Harry was already looking at. "These are the addresses to the flats. They've been warded to allow your entry. When you find one you like, owl this address at the bottom and my assistant Gwen will make the arrangements for the lease to be transferred to your name," he explained as he pointed to the paper. "I still want you to be happy whether I get something out of it or not."

Draco's eyes wouldn't meet Harry's as he turned to leave the Auror alone, but Harry couldn't seem to look anywhere else as he watched the man leave. Draco seemed genuine and honest when he spoke of putting Harry's well being before his own and when he thought about it, he couldn't remember a time when anyone had ever done that for him. At least not since his parents' tremendous sacrifice when he was just a baby. Ron and Hermione had always looked out for each other along with looking out for him, well, Hermione had at least. Ginny turned out to be even more selfish than Harry could have imagined, and even Dumbledore had been looking out for the well being of all mankind before that of a scrawny little orphan.

Against his better judgment he pulled out a small scroll and scribbled a tiny message on it before sending it to the Owlery on his way out. He was going to give the flats a once over and grab one up before Malfoy changed his mind.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Foiled again.

Draco thought Harry would have been receptive to at least one of his requests, after all, in spite of Harry being livid with him; Draco still had the ability to make the man smile. That had to count for something, right? Apparently not enough.

Still, he would see to it that Harry's needs were taken care of even if his weren't. If Harry needed a flat, Draco would get him a flat, if he needed time, he would give him time, if he needed a glorious shag, Draco would certainly be obliged to help him there as well. Still, it was a blow to his ego having walked out of that office without even a date for tea. Lucius would have been so disappointed in him.

As he handed his robe to the house-elf at the door, Draco thought about what else he might be able to provide for the reluctant hero. He'd barely made it into his study when he heard the telltale clattering of a beak against glass, and he went immediately to the window to let the Ministry bird inside. "Well, hello there," he cooed, scratching its neck as he held out his hand.

A small scroll dropped into his palm and Draco eyed it curiously as he tossed the bird a meaty snack and sent him on his way. Wasting no time discovering the contents of his message, Draco nearly laughed aloud when he read it.

_Pick me up at seven._

_HJP_

The note was perfectly Harry –short, sweet, and to the point. Something he'd said must have made an impact on that hard shell of Harry's, and he didn't know what it was but he hoped to repeat it over and over until the man was his.

Author's Note: So, a tiny break through... will it be enough to allow Draco to woo Harry or is it too little too late?


	11. Unforgivable

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her beta-reading.

Chapter 11 Unforgivable

Harry paced the long expanse of the Weasley's living room as he waited for Draco to arrive. He'd been out all day looking at the flats Draco had bought up and finally found one he liked. The paperwork was sent to Draco's assistant as instructed but he'd yet to hear back about it. Hermione sat in an armchair by the door reading a book that was larger than Harry's head but he was paying her little attention as he wrung his hands anxiously and strode back and forth along the room.

"Harry, you're going to wear a hole in my rug," Hermione pointed out sharply as she closed her book and set it aside.

"I'll buy you a new one if I do," he replied without breaking his stride.

"Are you going to buy me a new brain as well? Because _this_," she snapped, gesturing to his nervous pacing, "is driving me batty."

Harry stopped and balled his hands into fists at his side. "I don't know what I'm doing, Mione," he admitted worriedly. "I don't know why I agreed to it."

"Quite frankly I don't either," she huffed, "but if it's making you this anxious you should just Owl him and cancel."

"I want to," he told her quietly, but his tone held an apprehensiveness he couldn't explain.

"But?" she goaded, waving her hand about and indicating that he should just spit it out already. Having Harry under her roof for the past few weeks was making her a little anxious herself. The walls were thin and their bedrooms butted right up against one another, and quite frankly, she missed her husband.

"But I don't," he added unhelpfully and she sighed in response.

"Harry, what in Merlin's name compelled you to agree to a date with Draco Malfoy in the first place?" she asked, not for the first time since Harry had gotten home from work.

"I don't know," he groaned, leaning against one of the white columns that separated the foyer from the living room. "He was being so nice and I just…gave in."

"I don't trust him one bit," she stated unnecessarily. It was quite obvious what Hermione thought of Draco; Harry felt the same way…most of the time. "I don't know what he's up to but he's already used Ginny. Are you going to let him use you too?"

"No," Harry replied firmly with a blaze in his eyes that Hermione hadn't seen there in a long time. "I'm being cautious. It's just… I like him, Mione."

"Does this have anything to do with Allen being back in London?" she asked and Harry's eyes went wide.

"Allen?" he asked, gaping slightly. "_My_ Allen?"

"You didn't know," she whispered, chastising herself silently for elevating Harry's anxiety even more than it was already. "He just got in yesterday. I saw him in the Ministry lift on my way to visit Ron for lunch. I'm sorry, Harry. I thought you knew."

"No," he replied, shaking his head softly as if in a daze. "Why is he here?"

"He didn't say. I deduced it was something Auror related which was why I assumed you knew all about it," she replied.

"Fuck," Harry groaned in frustration, carding his hand through his already wild ebony mane. "I don't need this right now." Hermione was the only one Harry had told about the incident with Allen. She knew about the kiss, his extreme embarrassment after the confrontation, and even Harry's guilt over forcing the man out of the country. He hadn't seen his old partner in almost three years and that was fine by him. The humiliation of his mistake flooded over him anew just knowing the man was in the same city as he was, and had been in the same building earlier that day. Harry thought he should have been able to feel such a ripple of change in his life the moment Allen Portkeyed in.

However, the doorbell rang before he was able to give himself ample time to think about the implications of his old Auror partner being back in town. Harry cast a furtive glance at the door before shooting an apologetic look toward Hermione. He knew she would prefer Harry stay away from the blond, but something inside of him wouldn't allow it.

He resisted the urge to jerk open the door and glare the Slytherin down. Harry knew that if he tried he could probably find a way to pin the fault on Malfoy for everything that had gone wrong in his life – _ever_ – but he was an adult, and well beyond having tantrums and blame games. At least, that is what he told himself repeatedly as he gently pulled the door open to reveal his handsome dinner date.

"Malfoy," he greeted and Draco's grin faltered slightly.

"I'd really prefer it if you called me Draco," he replied and Harry could hear the scoff from Hermione. Funnily enough it sounded as though it came from much closer than the armchair across the room and Harry peaked around the corner to see her leaning against the short wall that blocked her view of the door.

"Sneaky little eavesdropper," Harry whispered and she jumped, having not seen him notice her, and blushed slightly at being caught. She didn't move back to her chair though and Harry simply rolled his eyes. "We'll see," he answered Draco. He could think about Draco using his first name, and in the past he was certain that he'd used it in conversation with the man a few times before, or even with Ginny, but that was a different time. It was before he had known about the elaborate scheme and betrayal the Slytherin had concocted in order to win his affections.

"I suppose that's all I can ask," the blond replied, though by the gleam in his eyes Malfoy looked prepared to ask for quite a lot over the duration of their date.

"I guess we should get going," Harry muttered, wanting to have cleared the cottage by the time Ron got home from the Burrow. The last thing he needed was to have the redhead explode all over him at the sight of him leaving with the man who had buggered his sister behind his back. He wouldn't even know how to begin to explain it when he didn't even understand it himself.

Draco offered his hand, but all Harry did was look at it pointedly. After a moment Draco pulled it away and shoved it back in his robe pocket, his haughty features taking on a fragment of injury for a fraction of a second. He cleared his throat sharply and gave Harry a curt nod. "I was thinking Amarillo's," he stated.

"I'm not familiar with it," Harry admitted and clasped the other man's shoulder so Draco could Apparate them both there. He immediately felt a slight tug in his stomach as the telltale nausea he always experienced when Apparating came and went and then Harry found himself standing on a slate landing directly in front of a rich looking glass door.

Draco opened it and gestured for Harry to enter; even though it felt peculiar having someone hold the door for him, he decided to comply rather than make a scene. It seemed he was bound to come to this crossroad several times tonight - remain quietly polite, or cause a scene – he hadn't been able to find a gray area with Malfoy that he was comfortable with just yet.

The room was flooded with amber light, which gave the ivory linens and dark woods a very warm feel, as the couple was directed to a booth in the back of the restaurant. Harry made himself busy by scanning the menu; an eclectic mix of meals from several regions and all with an overpriced tag. As he searched the list for something appealing, he tried not to think about Allen or the fact that this was hands down the most awkward date he'd ever had.

"I nearly forgot," Draco remarked, interrupting the uncomfortable silence that had settled around them. He pulled from his robes a set of parchments and slid them across the table. Harry knew what they were before he even bothered picking them up and he smiled. "It's all taken care of. I've signed them and so has the realtor. You can move in as soon as you like."

Harry felt a little like a prostitute getting his payment upfront but he gave a nod of thanks and put the documents away, happy to finally have a place of his own. He was so excited he might even stay there tonight rather then have to creep into the Weasley cottage, and just hope Hermione wasn't waiting up for him like a concerned parent. "Thanks for this," he replied at last.

"It was the least I could do," Draco assured him. "It was wrong to try and manipulate you, Harry. I see that now, truly."

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded before refocusing on his menu. Draco sighed and pulled the leather bound parchment down so that he could gaze into those emerald orbs. "Harry, listen to me. I know what I did was…unconventional, but you have to know that I did it all for you. I want to give you the life you deserve to have, but you wouldn't have accepted that from me until your old life was gone. Do you understand?"

Harry took a moment to breathe, opening his mouth to speak once or twice before snapping it sharply closed again. "No," he replied at last. "I don't." Draco winced but Harry pressed on. "I don't understand how you could purposefully hurt the one you profess to care for. I don't know how you could justify taking everything away from me so that you could replace it all with what you see as fit for _my_ life, I don't understand how you could be this gracious and beautiful person while at the same time a rotten manipulative bastard," he finished, careful not to let his voice rise so that the other table could hear their exchange.

"You're right," Draco sighed, folding his menu and placing it to the side. "I am all those things and so much more. I'm cunning and ruthless and generous and adoring. I have a duplicity within me that has baffled everyone around me, even my own parents, but I want you, Harry, and I'll mold myself into whatever you want me to be if I can one day call you mine."

"No!" Harry hissed, his voice sharp and demanding, but still low enough not to draw unwanted attention. "I want no such thing. I don't need any more lies in my life. I don't need to be wondering if I'm dating the real Draco Malfoy or the pretense he's constructed for my pleasure. When I decide to love a person I love all of that person. I love Hermione for both her caring nature and her ability to annoy the piss out of me; I love Ron for his unmatched enthusiasm and his innate greediness. I don't need anyone to placate to me."

"Do you think you could ever love all of me, Harry?" Draco asked softly. His face was an icily detached mask but his eyes were shining with hope and fear all at once; he looked strangely vulnerable and Harry had to wonder how much of this behavior was real, and how much was an act.

"I honestly don't know," Harry admitted with a sigh, letting his shoulders relax as if a huge weight had been lifted. "There are a lot of questions that I need to answer for myself before I could ever know the answer to that."

Draco took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, nodding slightly as he finished. "I can wait," he confirmed and Harry gave him a soft smile that was more than enough reward for Draco at that moment. "The duck is exquisite," he added, pointing to the menu and changing the subject so deftly that they might have been talking about the restaurants offerings all along.

"I don't much like duck," Harry replied with a twitch of disgust.

"Have you actually tried it?" Draco asked knowingly and Harry blushed and shook his head.

"It just seems wrong," Harry admitted with a shrug.

Draco laughed and the smile he directed at his date was so full of warmth that Harry nearly gasped from the feelings of tightness it stirred within him. These were familiar emotions, things he was used to feeling in the blond's presence, feelings that almost outweighed the injury he felt when he thought of what Draco had done to get here with him now. Almost.

"If I order the duck will you try it?" the blond asked and Harry shrugged again.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try something new," he replied, not entirely speaking of his meal options. Draco seemed to realize this as well and leveled his steely gaze on his date.

"No, it wouldn't," he agreed.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Harry ended up ordering a roasted chicken dish, but hardly touched it after he'd tasted Draco's duck. Draco knew exactly what he was talking about when he suggested it and the blond suggested they share it since the portions were so large. Malfoy seemed to relish watching Harry enjoy the dish and Harry tried very hard not to be bashful about being the center of someone's attention.

Their conversation remained light and amicable as Harry and Draco both purposefully steered clear of heavier topics like cheating wives and manipulative Slytherins. By the end of the night, the combination of friendly banter and a smidgeon too much wine had Harry feeling the fluttering of butterflies he'd felt at the Annual Gala so many years ago.

"You're pissed," Draco laughed as Harry stumbled against him on their way out.

"Am not," he protested, finding the sensation of being pressed into Draco's warm flesh more intoxicating than the wine had been.

Draco threaded his arm around the other man's waist to steady him, chuckling darkly as Harry leaned more fully into him. "You're rather cute when you drink too much."

"You're rather cute all the time," Harry blurted, slapping a hand over his mouth while Draco chuckled. The man's gray eyes darkened with lust as he took in Harry's wine darkened lips and wide green eyes, and all laughter between them quieted to a dull hush of labored breathing.

"I want to kiss you so badly, Harry," Draco whispered, his voice throaty and gruff. "If it's not what you want too then I need you to warn me off now."

Harry remained still, his silence invitation enough as Draco leaned in to capture the brunet's lips in a heated kiss. It was soft at first, almost tender as the blond ran his tongue cautiously along Harry's bottom lip in a plea for entrance. When Harry opened his mouth, he was immediately flooded with the taste of Draco, wine, duck and something more, something sweet and imperceptivity unique in flavor.

It was quite a rush to be kissing Draco Malfoy in a tiny alleyway outside an expensive wizarding restaurant. He could feel how eager the blond was, held taut like a bowstring waiting for Harry to dictate where this first encounter would lead. All Harry could think about was Draco's hot mouth and tongue and the nimble fingers holding him close. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced before.

"Hotel," Harry rasped when they parted for a second of air. Draco's brow creased, an eyebrow lifting in question, but Harry simply rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you don't know of any hotels we could go to," he quipped and Draco nodded once before Harry felt the twist in his gut from Apparition.

All Draco had to do was nod at the receptionist in the front lobby as he pulled Harry along to the elevator. Harry's breath caught in his throat as Draco kissed him again the second the lift doors shut, pressing him against the wall of the moving car as it progressed upward. When the lift finally came to a halt, Draco led Harry down a short hall to a set of double doors before quickly extracting his wand and flicking it at the barrier. A green light went off in the little electronic scanner attached to the wall and Draco pushed them through the entrance before slamming the doors shut behind him.

"They just let you use whatever room you like?" Harry asked with a laugh.

"I own the hotel. This is my permanent room here," he explained. Harry looked around briefly, his eyes flicking to the wide expanse of windows on the far side of the room and he knew at once where they were.

"You own the Baglioni?" Harry asked, his frown returning.

"Yes," Draco confirmed softly, assuming he knew where Harry's ire came from. "I never brought her to this room," he assured his date. "Never here, I swear it."

Harry took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly quite sober. "I believe you," he told the blond, and he did. He couldn't understand why, but he did.

Draco looked relieved before he sidled up next to Harry and resumed their kiss. Pale fingers brushed his face and feathered through his tousled hair and a soft moan escaped Harry's mouth. It had been so long since he'd been intimate with anyone, and here was this Slytherin god before him with soft blond hair, striking features, and a body that made Harry feel like he would die if he didn't touch every inch of it. The man claimed he wanted him, confessed a love so deep for Harry that it drove the blond to do utterly mad things; Harry shivered, the man was his own to do with as he pleased.

Working his fingers beneath Draco's robes, Harry carefully let them slide to the floor before attacking the first button on the blond's shirt and working down until he conquered them all. Draco gasped when Harry's heated grip clutched at his bare hips and slinked up his back, confidently stripping the shirt from his arms before latching his mouth on the other man's neck.

"Fuck, Harry," the man moaned against the shell of Harry's ear as he wrestled with Harry's own robes and shirt until bare flesh met bare flesh and they both gasped at the spark that emanated from their sudden contact.

Harry fumbled with the blond's trousers as he guided him toward the bed, watching as they created a thick black pool around his ankles. When they were both down to boxers – Harry's ivory and Draco's black, remaining perfectly opposite even down to their undergarments – Harry stole another kiss from his date before shoving him to the bed and straddling his lap.

Draco could hardly believe how bold and confident Harry was in the bedroom, especially considering the many odds against him. He suspected the brunet was still distrustful of him, and he was fairly certain Harry had never been with another man before. None of that would logically allow for the smooth sense of calm that was dripping from Harry's very pores, but Draco closed his eyes and went with it. When he felt hot fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers, Draco opened his eyes and drank in the appreciative leer Harry bestowed upon him at seeing him nude for the first time.

"Absolutely stunning," Harry murmured as he carefully stroked everywhere but the erection that was straining for Harry's attention. Draco was so turned on that he thought he might burst if he didn't get relief soon. Harry was more delicious than Draco had the nerve to expect and he could hardly wait to feel the man fill him up until he was spilling over with pleasure. Never in all his time with Ginevra had Draco had an orgasm that wasn't faked with a bit of magic and acting. It was difficult enough to even get hard for her when all he wanted was her husband, but now all those terrible trials were behind him.

He had Harry Potter at last, and after tonight he would cherish and adore him as a partner should, as Ginevra never had. Harry would be his best friend, his confidant, his lover and Draco would see to it that the man wanted for nothing.

Soft cords tightened around his wrists and Draco looked up to see Harry directing magic from his very fingertips into the air around them. He was so busy being awed by the wandless magic that he didn't notice at first when similar cords bound his ankles as well. "I didn't take you for having a bondage fetish, Harry," Draco teased, his eyes drinking in the mostly naked brunet straddling his lap.

"I don't," Harry replied and leaned in to kiss Draco softly on the mouth before biting sharply into the man's bottom lip.

Draco yelped and stared up at Harry, panic lacing through him for the first time. "What are you up to, Potter?"

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with seduction. After a slight pause, Draco nodded cautiously and Harry laughed. "Well, perhaps you shouldn't."

"Untie me, Harry," Draco demanded, his voice growing shrill. He didn't understand this shift in his love's personality, he didn't like it - He wanted to touch Harry again, kiss him, and hold him.

"I don't think that's going to happen," Harry said as he removed himself from the bed and pulled his trousers back on before rummaging in Draco's robes until he found the blond's hawthorn wand. Harry smirked down at the bound man as he dangled it just out of his reach.

"Harry, what's going on?" Draco asked in a wavering tone.

"Who the fuck did you think you were toying with, Malfoy?" Harry shouted angrily.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, worry and fear guiding his voice now. "I don't understand, Harry."

"You ruined my fucking life, Malfoy," he spat. "You took your selfish want for me and twisted it until it was sullied and unclean and then you used it against me. You tore apart my marriage; you did everything in your power to manipulate me into your life. Who the fuck do you think I am, Malfoy?" he asked again.

"You're my Harry," Draco replied, nearly sobbing.

"I'm not yours," Harry hissed. "I never was. You have no authority over my heart. Do you hear me? I'm Harry bloody Potter and I will love who I choose, not who you trick and manipulate me into being with. Is that understood?" he asked, his tone soft and menacing.

Draco nodded vehemently and Harry stood to his full height once more, letting Draco see him as he was: beautiful, powerful, cunning and proud. In a way he should be thanking the blond for this, for renewing his confidence in himself, even if he was responsible in part for knocking it down.

"Do not approach me again," Harry commanded. "If I want to see you or speak to you, I'll seek you out." Draco swallowed thickly and looked up into the face of the man he wanted so desperately and gave him the nod Harry expected. He watched as Harry turned away and gathered his things, making no motion to free the blond. He was almost relieved when Harry fled the room quickly, so swift that he wouldn't have heard the strangled cry that escaped his lips as Harry's final rejection hit him square in the heart just a surely as the Cruciatus – powerful enough to torture, but not forgiving enough to put him out of his misery.

Author's Note: This chapter is for all of you, like me, who needed to see Draco get some of his just-desserts for his behavior earlier in the story. Also, who wants to meet Allen??


	12. Lessons Learned

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her beta reading of this chapter. I'm rather fond of this story and all of its backward affection. Lol.

Chapter 12 Lessons Learned

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt confident, powerful and in control of his own destiny. The incident with Draco the night before had been unfortunate – he honestly was beyond attracted to the man and it had taken him no less than three cold showers to subdue the arousal created by their close proximity and falsely promised coupling – but something had to be done about his tendency to think Harry was inferior to him.

Whether the blond said it aloud or not, that was simply the only solution Harry could come to for Draco's dysfunctional behavior. He saw Harry as a puppet and he the puppeteer; dangling his strings and making Harry do the dance of his choosing. That wasn't how he wanted to live. He could withstand manipulation, even respect it to a degree – a matter for which he completely blamed on the side of him that the Sorting Hat saw fit to throw him into Slytherin over – but he couldn't abide by it as the driving factor for his relationships.

After Ginny, Harry discovered that he wanted passion and fire; a pull from his other half that could never be denied. He wanted all the things he hadn't had with her. He wanted children, he wanted to travel and see the world, he wanted more than the daily wreckage of events he'd found piling up around him to form his life. He couldn't tell yet if Draco could fulfill any of those things, and while his pull to the man was undeniable, he was still too angry and wary of him to know for sure. After last night, some of that anger had drained away, and he no longer held concern that the blond would meddle in his affairs unless invited.

Maybe one day Harry would invite him, but today was not that day.

No, today was the day he finished out his caseload for the month so that he could sack his job with a clear conscience. This would be the first step in a series of first steps for Harry, and he was nearly giddy over the many new possibilities that lay sprawled ahead of him. Word had come from Minerva recently that there was a post available as Defense instructor at Hogwarts. He hadn't given it much thought when he was with Ginny because he knew she had no desire to leave London, but perhaps it was just the change he needed in his life to set things on the right track at last.

He was enjoying his daydreams about walking the hallowed Hogwarts corridors in professor robes, leading students as he'd done back in fifth year, being looked up to for the right reasons instead of for the singular task of taking down a madman. He was so focused on daydreams of his new life, that he'd forgotten all about Hermione's warning the day before until a knock on the frame of his door brought him out of his reverie and he looked up to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes he hadn't seen in years.

"Allen." The word was whispered through parted lips and a slight flush formed on his cheeks without Harry's permission. Less quickly than he would have liked, Harry wiped the doe-eyed look from his face and returned to his normally stern demeanor. "I heard you were in town."

"I wondered if you had plans for lunch," Allen replied, his face forming the easy, familiar grin that Harry sometimes still dreamed about. He was uncommonly tan for standing in a British Ministry building, but Harry assumed that was what happened when relegated to Australia for any length of time. His hair was the same sandy blond that Harry remembered, though maybe made a bit lighter by the sun. Even with his standard edition Auror robes he was a sight for sore eyes, a stunning example of manly physique. It made Harry's tongue feel too large in his mouth and he didn't like that even after so many years apart, Allen could have this effect on him.

"I do, actually," Harry replied curtly.

"Liar," Allen accused playfully, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a half-smile. "You think I'd forget what a rubbish liar you were?"

"It's been a long time, Allen. I think I'd find myself surprised if you remembered enough about me to equal anything important." The fact of it was, Harry just didn't want to be alone with the man. He'd just gotten his confidence back, he didn't need this fine Australian to go and squash it again.

"I remember our kiss." The words took Harry off-guard in a most extraordinary way and he looked up, eyes wide as saucers before he narrowed them sharply.

"Well, that's convenient, since you didn't before when it mattered," Harry huffed. "Allen, I'm busy. Have a nice stay here in London and do let me know if any of the Aurors are being difficult with whatever you might need from our department."

With that, Harry looked down at his stack of papers and pretended to ignore Allen as he blindly scanned the documents in his hands. "I'm not here to visit. I've moved back to London. Kingsley is giving me my old post back. I heard you're making department Head, that's brilliant, Harry. Congratulations." The man was rambling, which Harry knew he only did when he was nervous. Furthermore, Harry hated that he remembered that fact so keenly and looked up with a tight-lipped smile.

"I wish I had been consulted, though I'm afraid it matters very little. I'll be putting in my resignation by month's end. I'm sure the rest of the team will be pleased you're back." It wasn't at all what he wanted to say, but it wasn't appropriate to have a temper tantrum in the middle of his office, so he refrained from pointing out that Harry could dismiss him just as readily as Kingsley could hire him back.

"You're resigning because of me? Harry, I never-"

"Not everything is about you," Harry hissed, slamming his stack of parchments impatiently on the desk. "My life has been turned on its end, but you're only a fraction of my problem, Allen. _A fraction._"

"I had the memories of our kiss extracted so that I could view them," Allen blurted, causing Harry to stare up at him in confusion. "I know I was rotten over it, but I remember everything now, Harry. I remember how it felt to hold you, to kiss you…Harry, I think…I think I might have been in love with you and was too stupid and afraid to see it."

Harry just stared for a long moment, not seeing anything really, but letting the words replay over and over again in his mind. Allen was still rambling on, but Harry couldn't seem to process any of it. He heard the barrage of names Allen called himself, but outside of that, Harry only heard the memory of Draco's frustrated sobs in his ears from the night before.

"Brilliant," Harry sighed at last, probably cutting the other man off again, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Why can't anyone _undamaged_ be in love with me?" he muttered to himself before glancing back up at Allen.

"Dinner," Allen offered. "That's all I ask, one dinner."

Was this it? Was this the way his life was supposed to turn out? If he started dating Allen, he'd never manage to resign his Auror position. Did he even want that? Allen was a complete tosser when Harry had confronted him about the kiss years ago. He'd married Ginny because of the failure of that moment, which wasn't really Allen's fault but it couldn't be denied that it was a direct result of Allen breaking his heart. But if he went out with him now, all that hurt might fly out the window and he'd find himself lost in those mirthful blue eyes once more and unable to resist. Why did he have such a weakness for blonds?

"Sorry," Harry replied briskly. "I'm dating someone."

"But, Hermione said you and Ginny are getting divorced," he replied, his eyes scrutinizing.

"We are." Harry didn't understand why Allen couldn't simply take no as an answer. "I've recently started dating someone else and it's getting serious," he lied.

Allen narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Who?"

Harry should have expected that question but he hadn't. He thought Allen would just take the rejection and move on to avoid further embarrassment because that's what Harry would have done But no…of course, the practiced Auror would have to know who his competition was; the only problem was that Harry wasn't _actually_ dating anyone. "Draco Malfoy," he blurted when nothing else came to mind.

"Isn't he the one who ruined your marriage?" Allen asked, eyes wide.

"Hermione's been gossiping, I see," Harry grumbled. "Yes, well, turns out he did it all for me. Isn't that sweet?" His given smile was false and he could tell by the gleam in Allen's eyes that he recognized it as such.

Allen's smile was stolen by a frown and Harry suspected that the man thought it was quite the opposite of sweet. "Actually, it sounds a bit creepy."

"Yes," Harry mused. "I thought that too at first, but what can I say, the man's grown on me." That statement was true enough. He'd grown like a weed through his heart, impossible to pluck out.

"Then maybe I could come out and have drinks with you both one evening," he offered. His playful smile suggested that he thought Harry was lying, which he was, and hoped to call him on his bluff.

"Perhaps," Harry replied with a casual wave of his hand, although his head was beating so fast he wasn't sure if he managed to pull off the indifference he was aiming for. He hoped it looked to Allen as though he could take or leave the suggestion and be fine either way.

"Tomorrow night then," he replied and winked at Harry. "I look forward to meeting this man of your dreams."

Without waiting for Harry to reply, Allen was gone as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving Harry to sputter behind him. Harry felt a mild panic at the situation he found himself in now. Taking a deep breath, he paused and tried to convince himself that it was nothing. He'd simply feign having plans and cancel, although then Allen's obvious suspicions that he was lying about his relationship with Malfoy would be confirmed, and Harry couldn't have that. He didn't want to date Allen for the simple reason that he so very much _did_ want to date Allen. It was the very same thing that drove him away from Draco. He was so conflicted over the devious blond that it made his head spin. How could he both despise and adore the same person?

There was only one thing left to do, and it was bound to happen eventually, but Harry was loath to do it so soon.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the doorbell rang through Malfoy Manor, Draco looked up from his sullen position at his desk, staring at the image of him and Potter smiling amicably back at the camera. He'd already crashed it against the wall and repaired it several times that morning after being finally released from his binds by the hotel maid. The look on her face upon finding him there naked and bound might be funny one day, but it wasn't funny yet. He came home to find his wand returned in a tiny red box. Potter had just left it on his doorstep like a discarded newspaper. It infuriated him when he thought how thoroughly he'd been tricked by the man he had hoped to court, but he had to offer at least a hint of Slytherin respect to the brunet, not that he would do so aloud or in the man's presence.

A throat cleared in the hallway just outside his door and Draco looked up from the kind Harry in the portrait on his desk to the one lingering in his doorway and scowled. "Well, that was fast," he mused. "Here to taunt me some more, you bloody cocktease?"

Harry blushed and stepped forward, leaning carefully on the back of the armchair in front of Malfoy's desk. It made the wide lines of Harry's shoulders stand out prominently and Draco hated the way it tightened things low in his body. "I'd apologize, but that would indicate that I was in some way sorry for what I did last night, and I'm not. You needed to be taught a lesson."

Malfoy pursed his lips in a frown and leaned forward. "How very astute of you, _Professor_. And are you here now to finish what you started last night?"

"No," Harry admitted. "But, I've come to ask you out for drinks."

"I'm busy." The reply was so similar to his own with Allen that Harry balked.

"I haven't even told you when," Harry pointed out.

"It doesn't matter when," Draco replied. "It could be this very moment or the forty-second of November, either way, I'm busy."

"Look, Draco, I know last night was-"

"Humiliating," Draco hissed, finishing the Auror's sentence in an accurate fashion. "I've put my heart on my sleeve for you, Potter. I've endured horrible things for you, I've turned my life upside down for over a year trying to garner your attention, and what you did to me last night crushed the last bit of spirit I have."

"You don't seem very crushed to me," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. Draco was being overdramatic, which Harry occasionally found charming, but not when his words were outright lies. "You spent a year shagging my wife, forgive me if I don't see that as some great trial."

Draco growled and launched the framed photo of he and Harry across the room once more, relishing in the shattering sound of glass that echoed so much cleaner than the shattering sound his heart made. "You can't just humiliate a Malfoy in such a way and then expect a favor the very next moment. Sorry, Harry, but I can't oblige you." He sounded both firm and conflicted over that statement, and Harry decided to appeal to the wavering quality of Draco's voice, something he was very intimate with in himself.

"Draco," he whispered, moving to lean against the edge of the desk instead of the chair. "I need you."

Draco's eyes glazed over for a singular moment and then he nodded curtly, tossing himself out of the emerald trance. "Yes, well, I realized that a long time ago, but you didn't listen."

"An old flame is back in town and he wants to have drinks with me," Harry explained finally, trying to reason to Draco's envy if nothing else would work.

"And you want me to what? Watch? Sit there like a silly lump while you snog some new man?" Draco scoffed.

"I want you to save me from it," Harry replied, and he knew his words had sunk in when Draco's eyelashes fluttered slightly. Two could play this manipulation game.

"You'd rather go out with me than him?" Draco asked and Harry nodded. He didn't tell the blond that he picked him because he has more control over his feelings for Draco than for Allen, but fundamentally the statement was true, so he nodded.

"I told him you and I were getting serious and he wants to meet you," Harry added.

"So, I'm simply your scapegoat," he deduced wisely and Harry sighed.

"But, you do care for me, don't you?" Harry asked. "You wouldn't wish to see me in another unhappy relationship, would you?"

"I'm not interfering in your love life anymore," Draco replied haughtily. "You taught me that _lesson_ loud and clear last night." The words were spat like venom from his mouth and Harry winced.

"Draco," he tried to reason with him again, but the blond cut him off with a wave.

"Have fun on your date, Potter." His words and tone were a clear dismissal and Harry sighed in defeat and left the Manor. He should have expected such a response, but somehow he hadn't. It seemed he was just as clueless about how to manage his life now as he had been several years ago. With a heavy heart, he steeled himself for his date with Allen, hoping that he might have some semblance of resistance for the man who had hurt him so badly years earlier.

-------------------------------------

"Dating Draco Malfoy, and _serious_ about it?" Hermione demanded, her eyes wide and indignant. "Harry, how could you tell Allen such a thing?"

"It was the best I could come up with on such short notice, and since you apparently gave out all the intimate details of my current love life I wasn't left with much truth," he spat, calling her out for sharing information when it wasn't hers to share.

"The fact that you're getting a divorce is hardly an intimate detail, Harry. It's public record, Allen would have learned of it eventually," she huffed, attempting to defend herself.

"Even so, it's good to know whose side you're on," he snapped and folded his arms across his chest, knowing that he looked like a petulant child, but not caring in the slightest.

She had come to his flat that evening when she'd heard – most likely from Allen – what had happened at the Ministry earlier that day. He'd mostly settled in to his new flat, magic was a brilliantly handy thing when moving, but there were still a few unopened boxes in the living room.

"I'm on your side of course," she quipped. "As such, I'm trying to make sure you're happy. I thought you _liked_ Allen," she reasoned, her voice growing softer when Harry sighed and gave up his angry stare.

"I do, but that's the problem," Harry sighed. "He hurt me too much already. I can't be with him when I don't trust that he won't do that again. What if this is all an experiment for Allen? What if he's only wanting to try out a relationship with a bloke because of a sour relationship back in Australia?"

"You'll never find out why he's back if you don't talk to him." Her hand was making soft twists in her long brown hair and she looked genuinely concerned for him. "Ron and I both like Allen, he could be good for you, certainly better than Malfoy," she added with a distasteful scrunch to her nose.

"I don't care if you and Ron like him. It's my opinion of him that's important," he scoffed and Hermione gave him a conceding nod.

"That's true, Harry, but Ron and I can look at things from an unbiased perspective that you might not see." Harry laughed at that and Hermione blushed slightly. "Alright, well, mostly unbiased."

"Well, it doesn't matter much now anyway," he huffed. "Draco and I are supposed to meet him for drinks tomorrow night but Draco won't come. Allen will figure things out soon enough and discover I lied about dating someone. Once again I'll look like a pathetic loser."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed and moved over to sit on the sofa with him, her arm around his shoulders. "No one thinks that."

"You should have seen how angry he was today," he whispered, burying his head into Hermione's neck.

"Allen?" she asked curiously. She couldn't imagine what the hunky Australian man would be upset over. He seemed rather confident that he would win Harry's affections when they had spoken earlier that day.

"Draco," Harry corrected. "He was so mad he probably would have been boiling to the touch."

Silence drifted through the stilted conversation until Hermione kissed Harry on the forehead and pulled him back so that she could look at him properly. Her gaze went immediately to his eyes, as anyone's did who knew Harry well. They all knew that no matter how much Auror training he underwent, his eyes were still as expressive as when he was eleven.

"You really care for him, don't you?" she asked softly and watched as Harry's eyes widened and shone.

"I think I do," Harry whispered and looked away from her so that his soul could remain hidden. "I just don't know what to do about it."

Author's Note: I sort of loved Draco's attitude here, and Harry's failed attempt at a second manipulation. One of these days the boys are going to realize that is not the way to the other's heart. Perhaps I'm wrong though and I'll end the story with Harry running away and Draco in a white coat… *shrug (also, if you haven't already seen it, I posted a oneshot called 'Crush' on Friday) and don't forget to add me if you have a Twitter account. I'm doing daily updates about my writing schedule and it's one of the best ways to contact me these days. Sad but true.


	13. Set Him Free

Author's Note: Yay for my beta, Laurel!! Another chapter of this twisted tale is here.

Chapter 13 Set Him Free

Whenever Harry wanted the clock to speed up and let him out of some uncomfortable situation, it always seemed to move doubly slow. If ever he wished for more time to complete a task, or needed time to slow somehow for his benefit, it would always seem to quicken its pace. Today was one of those days. He wished the work hours could stretch on and on into infinity so that he wouldn't have to meet up with Allen for drinks afterward, but it seemed every time he looked at his watch, hours had passed instead of just minutes as he'd hoped.

The Australian had cornered him at lunch to confirm and Harry tried to back out of it then, stating that he had an appointment he'd forgotten about. Allen merely suggested they met an hour later. The man was infuriating, and even after being missing from Harry's life for several years, Allen still seemed to remember things about the way he carried himself when he lied, or the way his eyes lowered when he was uncomfortable, and Allen preyed on those indicators the same way he would if Harry was committing some sort of crime.

"Same pub as usual?" Allen asked, poking his head into Harry's office as the day wound to a close. He acted as though they'd gone there every night for years, and Harry supposed that was true, but not any time recently. The thought of being alone there with Allen sent unwanted chills down his spine and warmed him in inappropriate places. This was the man who had hurt him, this was the man who had let Harry believe that he was undesirable and there was nothing to stop him from doing it again.

Harry nodded, unable to form the word 'yes' when directed toward the tasty Australian. "I don't know how long I'll be though," he warned.

"Don't worry," Allen replied with a grin. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

The blond left and Harry let his head slump to the desk. Something told him that Allen had meant much more with his last statement than simply lingering at the pub past curfew. He could already tell this was going to be an agonizing evening of self-restraint.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry could see clear enough through the dirty pub windows to know that Allen was already inside and he had been for over an hour. He had paced the alleyway back and forth several times now, wondering how to get out of this evening with Allen for nearly the whole hour the man had been waiting for him. Merlin, how he wished Draco would have accompanied him. At least then he would have a hand to squeeze when the Australian made remarks like he did the day before. "In love with me?" Harry scoffed to himself, remembering Allen's ludicrous claim. "Who the hell does he think he is disappearing for years and then showing up with that declaration?! Too little too late is what I say."

He knew he looked like a madman, ranting to himself in an alley outside a pub, but he couldn't bring himself to care. With one last frustrated sigh, Harry decided the Auror had waited long enough and he summoned all of his Gryffindor courage and walked inside with an even stride. He was going to just tell Allen that he wasn't seeing anyone at the moment, but that he just wasn't interested in dating him anymore. Then he would just have to hope that Allen couldn't persuade him otherwise.

He took a seat at the booth Allen had absconded and looked sternly across the table to meet the man's blue gaze. "I'm here."

"So I see," Allen replied and leaned over, scooping one of Harry's hands inside his own. "I've missed you."

Harry swallowed thickly and panicked, but didn't remove his hand from the other man's grasp. "You hurt me," Harry told him and Allen cringed.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. It's been on my mind ever since," he promised. "Can I have a chance to make it up to you?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. He felt so torn, half of him stuck in this used up life and his backward affection for his blond Slytherin stalker and the other half wondering what would happen if he were to throw caution to the wind and take this leap with Allen. The feel of Allen's thumbs making slow circles in the center of Harry's palm felt comforting, and he could nearly picture them alone together, no noise of a crowded pub to drown out their words, no one but them. With just a casual touch Allen had melted his earlier resolve to stave the man off.

"Because you're seeing someone else?" Allen's eyes watched him like a hawk's, studying every blink, ever twitch and every swallow Harry made in response to that question. "Harry, you can tell me if you've made that up to ward me off. Trust me, I understand your hesitance to be with me after what I did to you, but if you would just hear me out-"

"Should I be worried about this?"

Harry jumped at the sound of the familiar haughty tone and without his permission; a smile broke across his face. He looked up into Draco's piercing gray eyes and shook his head, extracting his hand from Allen's with haste. "Draco," he breathed, he hadn't realized how much he had missed that sneering face until he thought he wouldn't see it again. He had thoroughly angered the man with his earlier manipulations and, while he still felt his actions were just, he hadn't expected him to come to his aid tonight.

The blond slid in beside him and leaned in to kiss Harry's cheek before whispering softly into his ear on the side furthest from Allen's view. "Do you still need rescuing?" he asked and Harry gave him a sly nod. "You realize it will cost you, right?"

At Harry's narrowed gaze, Draco chuckled softly, letting his lips linger against the heated skin of Harry's cheeks before capturing Harry's mouth in a kiss. There was no fire missing or falsified in their performance, and after a moment, Harry even forgot they were acting as he slid his tongue into the other man's mouth and tasted deeply of him. It wasn't until a throat cleared from across the table that Harry remembered Allen was there.

"Who knew you were such a supporter of public displays of affection, Harry," the man commented bitterly. "Care to introduce us?"

"I'm Draco." He didn't even bother waiting for Harry's flush to fade before introducing himself with an extended hand, the other he laced around Harry's waist. Suddenly Harry wondered whether Allen was the one he should be worried about losing his head with. The nearness of Draco made his heart beat at a quickened pace and he suspected his trousers might tear soon if he didn't do something to abate his growing erection.

"Harry's spoken of you," Allen said. No 'nice to meet you' for him; no, Allen wasn't happy at all.

"You're his old partner, Allen is it?" Draco asked, and Harry spared a moment to wonder how he came about that knowledge.

"That's right. Harry's mentioned me then?" the man asked, and only because Harry knew him so well could he see the hope glittering in those blue eyes.

Draco merely shrugged. "Not really. Rumors of these things circulate and I'm in a position to know a great many things."

"Clearly the knowledge of how to abstain from sleeping with another man's wife has escaped you," Allen challenged but Draco gave him a soft smile before turning to meet Harry's gaze with the full weight of his own.

"Harry's made me aware of my folly and I am more apologetic than he could ever realize." The words were absolutely sincere; Harry could feel that to the core of him. He just didn't know what to do with that sincerity. If his heart wouldn't let him forgive Allen, how could he possibly forgive Draco? "I love him and that's all that matters now."

Harry closed his eyes at the words, surprised by how deeply they affected him and reminded himself that Draco was merely wrapped up in his own obsession. He couldn't really love Harry, not even if the blond really believed it to be true. Still, the sentiment seemed to genuine and pure that he couldn't help but smile. When he opened his eyes again, he stroked Draco's face tenderly and smiled, wondering what to do with this brazenly devious blond man who kept capturing his heart.

"He's certainly irresistible," Harry mused and kissed the man lightly on his bottom lip.

"You mean like the plague?" Allen asked and Harry had to stifle a laugh.

"Allen, you're being rude," he scolded instead, but the man seemed unapologetic.

"Harry, do you honestly love this man?" Allen asked and Harry let out a long and deep sigh.

"I care for him more than I ever thought I could," Harry answered truthfully and a feeling he wasn't expecting bludgeoned him in the gut. "I might," he added, his voice a bear whisper. "I might love him."

"How!?" Allen hissed, his temper rising. "How could you fall for the man who tore apart your marriage? I waited until I heard of your split with Ginny before I even considered pursuing you and when I get here, I find you cuddled up to the man who betrayed you."

"If that's the case than you're just as wrong as he was," Harry spat. His own anger was getting the best of him and he didn't want to rein it in. Beside him, Draco was sitting still baffled by Harry's earlier confession, but Harry paid him little mind either. "If you knew of your feelings for me you should have presented them. Why does no one think me capable of making a decision for myself?"

"I didn't want to cause conflict," Allen replied, his expression full of chastised injury.

"Because you thought I would just abandon my marriage at the possibility of being loved by you? At least Draco knew better than to assume my morals and loyalty are as low as that – not that I'm condoning what you did in any way," he reminded the blond with a quick aside, to which Draco nodded hastily. "But no, instead you wait until the risk of rejection is lowered before you come waltzing back. You just expected me to be free and unattached and begging to be fucked."

Both blonds' eyes widened at Harry's vulgarity, but the Australian recovered first, his eyes narrowing. "You're making it sound as though I'm a bad person for allowing you the chance to succeed at your marriage to Ginny."

"No, not a bad guy, just no better than Draco. You didn't mind giving me the rejection that sent me into Ginny's arms, but you were too cowardly to accept your own rejection. Well, I'm afraid it's unavoidable. I'm with Draco now. Perhaps, had you made your feelings known sooner, it would have been your arms I ran into when my marriage collapsed instead of his, though maybe not."

"Fine," Allen snapped bitterly, exhaling the breath he'd been holding. "Let Draco be your rebound. Maybe I'll be around when you're ready to try this, maybe I won't." The tone was final and he got up from the booth and stalked out of the pub with glowering eyes.

"Did you mean any of that?" Draco asked after the silence stretched between them.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "I don't know if I'm trying to find ways to justify your behavior because I want you or if I really understand what you did and why you did it."

"But you want me?" Draco asked, ignoring the rest.

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled softly, sadly. "You know that I do. I just haven't figured out what that means yet."

"I think it means that you love me too," Draco offered, his voice a mixture of confidence and uncertainty as he tried to make light of it.

"Maybe." The word repeated in his ears like an echo from earlier. "I think it's too soon to tell."

"Do you want my opinion?" Draco asked with a smirk.

Harry scoffed at the question. "Do I have a choice?"

"Yes," Draco replied seriously. "I told you I wouldn't meddle in your love life, but it's different if you ask me to."

Harry twitched with the urge to fight his smile. It seemed an old Malfoy could learn new tricks. "Go on then, what sage Malfoy advice do you have to offer me?"

"I think you should take a vacation," he replied simply.

No matter what he did, Harry couldn't seem to stop the confused frown that creased his forehead. "How in the world would that help? And please don't tell me you've booked us some exotic getaway because I'm not taking a trip with you," he warned.

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned into the table, propping his head up with one elbow so that he could look at Harry sideways. Harry thought he looked like an owl with his eyes wide and gray and his hair fluffed up like feathers. "I could make the arrangements this instant if I thought you'd enjoy that, but no, I meant that you should leave town for a bit, take time off and regain your bearings. You've treated every day the same since your marriage dissolved and I think you need a break to collect yourself."

"A break," Harry repeated, rolling the word around on his tongue. It was true; he hadn't even paused in his usual daily business to tie up the loose ends that had frayed at the edges of his life over the last few weeks. Worse still, it had been years since Harry had taken any time for himself. He'd taken an extended weekend right after training where he just lazed about the flat and did nothing but read and cook, but that was hardly soul satisfying. Maybe Draco was right, maybe he needed to travel and see things outside of his normal routine for a while. Perhaps he needed to reconnect with himself and figure out once and for all what he wanted without the pressure of others around him who all had opinions on what he should be doing. It wasn't lost on Harry that the advice had been a clearly selfless act on Draco's part. Surely he hoped Harry would come to him when he returned, but Draco would gain nothing by his leaving. In fact, it couldn't even be assured that he would come back once he left. What would happen if Harry found he quite liked Ireland, or wanted to live and work in the United States for a bit?

"Yes," he nodded, coming to a decision. "I think that's exactly what I'll do."

The gleam in Draco's eyes was both proud and wary, so Harry leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on the man's cheek. "What was that for?" The corners of Draco's mouth were curved into a soft smile as he ran his fingertips over the spot Harry's lips had touched.

"For being sweet and for looking out for me," Harry replied.

"I know it might not always seem like it, but I'm not the selfish prat you have pictured in your mind," Draco informed him seriously. "And I really do care about you a great deal."

"Not love?" Harry asked mockingly, his face shrouded in feigned disappointment.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again in the next moment before trying again. "I think I need some time to discover what love truly is. And who knows, maybe when you return we'll both be in just the right place to begin something wonderful."

An image flew into Harry's mind unbidden of he and Draco sharing breakfast tea and lounging together in bed, and he couldn't find a single fault with it. It felt warm and comfortable. He tried to think of the same scenario between him and Allen and it just didn't fit quite the same way. Perhaps there was something to Draco's logic. Maybe Harry had discovered where he belonged in the world now that everything around him was different, or maybe he had belonged to Draco all along and just hadn't realized it. He just didn't think he could know that for sure if he stayed there in London. The man always seemed like the perfect match when he was staring into those brilliant gray eyes, but what if that was just their chemistry coming to the forefront and erasing everything else?

"Well, then it's settled. I'm finishing out the month and then I'll be off traveling the world," Harry announced matter-of-factly.

"Will you write?" Draco asked, and his normally level voice was tinged with panic at the reality of losing Harry to the wonders of the world for Merlin knew how long.

"Every day," Harry promised. "Will you?"

Draco nodded emphatically. "And you _will _come back?"

"At some point, yes," he replied vaguely, because not even he could predict where the wind would take him, All he knew was that he couldn't imagine leaving his home and his friends behind forever. He'd have to make arrangements for Teddy while he was away. He would miss the boy, but Andi would continue to take good care of him in his absence. Then a thought occurred to him. "Would you mind checking in on Teddy from time to time?"

"I already do," Draco replied. "I have for a couple of months now, but I'd be happy to visit him more often while you're away."

"Thanks," Harry whispered, taken off-guard by the news. "Why did you only just start visiting him?"

"At first it was because he's important to you, which made him important to me, but the tike has grown on me. I can see Nymphadora so clearly in him," he mused.

"You realize she hated that name?" Harry laughed, remembering his fallen friend.

"I'm aware. Personally I always thought it was a lovely name, a Black name for certain," he replied. "Proud and beautiful."

"Nothing at all like my own," Harry laughed.

"Nonsense," Draco huffed lightly. "Harry is a king's name, a leader's name. It also happens to be the name of the man I'm rather taken with, so there will be no bashing of it."

Harry chuckled. He was starting to see that there was so much about Draco that he didn't know, the man obviously had some unusual ideas, but there were parts of him that Harry found pleasantly surprising. In the face of the unknown and the adventures he had set before him, Harry decided to throw caution to the wind and claimed the blond beside him in an unexpected kiss. There was no longer any doubt that his affection for the man was not an act, and he poured all of his frustration and hopefulness into the other man's mouth as he pulled the man into him with needy growls. Draco melted against him and Harry at once felt his long fingers thread though his hair before working down and cupping his jaw, tilting it so that he could get better access to Harry's willing lips. The kiss was filled with so much emotion that Harry couldn't concentrate. He both loved and hated this man wrapped around him and he knew that parting from him would be both difficult and necessary.

They were breathing heavily when they broke apart, and Draco sighed. "Was that a goodbye kiss? Because it sure felt like it."

"I think it was a farewell kiss," Harry corrected. "I'm coming back, remember?"

"Yes, but who knows. You might find the perfect bloke out on your travels and you'll be a married man again when we meet," he reasoned.

"Anything's possible, I suppose," Harry agreed. "Though I doubt very seriously I'd let you anywhere near another spouse." Draco cringed and nodded, accepting his chastisement until Harry laughed and kissed him lightly on the lips. "It was a joke. I think you've learned your lesson."

"Do you?" The blond looked genuinely curious as he asked.

"Time will tell, I suppose," Harry answered diplomatically before slipping out of the booth and holding his hand out to Draco. The men left the pub in silence, going their separate ways once through the entrance, each deep in their own thoughts. Harry wondered where he would go and what he would find when he got there, and Draco simply hoped the man came back and that he would finally be able to see a future for them together when he did. His mother always said that if you love someone, set them free, and if they come back to you they are truly yours. He'd never known what she meant until now, and he certainly hoped Harry came back to him.

Author's Note: So, Laurel tells me that I've managed to redeem Draco. What say you? Does Harry come back to his trip and seek Draco out or does he find someone better suited to him on his travels? (keep in mind I've already set my resolve to what will happen...see if you can sway me! lol)


	14. Love Letters and Hate Mail

Author's Note: Okay, so this is the second to last chapter of this story. Thanks to Laurel for her beta work.

Chapter 14 Love Letters and Hate Mail

_Draco,_

_I'm in Venice! Can you believe it? It's beautiful here! I visited the Piazza San Marco yesterday and at this very moment I'm writing you while enjoying a very romantic gondola ride (alone). I know I've only been away for a week, but I'm thinking about you and I might actually miss you a little. _

_Sincerely,_

_HJP_

As soon as Draco received the owl his heart nearly leapt in his chest. It had been six days, four hours and thirty-two minutes since he'd last seen his love, and each second of it had been agonizing. He tried to be patient and remind himself that Harry would need some time to see a few things and settle into his new traveling lifestyle, but every day wondered if he'd done the right thing in suggesting the man leave the city. What if he never heard from Harry again? But when that first letter arrived, he felt hope spring anew and he snuggled into the feeling Harry inspired within him. No one would ever complete his soul the way Harry did.

------------------------

_Harry,_

_I was wondering if you'd actually write. I was beginning to worry that all your parchment had been eaten by Sneazles. Can you tell I've run into Luna Lovegood recently? I'm glad you're doing well. Venice is indeed a beautiful city. You should have told me you were going. I have a loft there you could have stayed in. _

_Allen's been asking after you. What should I tell him? _

_I might miss you a smidgeon as well._

_Love,_

_Draco_

Draco hadn't just run into Luna, he'd run into Ginevra, Granger and Allen in one fell swoop. It seemed Granger was acting as lawyer for the Potter-Weasley divorce and she was bringing Ginevra the papers over lunch. Luna was there with Ginevra as support and Allen, of all people, was there as Luna's date – at least this was what Draco deduced from his thankfully brief encounter with the foursome.

He could hardly believe the audacity that Allen had in asking after Harry while his arm was wrapped firmly around Luna's waist. Part of him wanted to tell Harry all about it, confirm for his brunet paramour that he'd made a good choice in ditching the Australian, but he thought it might do more harm than good. Harry had already decided not to date Allen, there was no use rubbing in the fact that the man had already moved on.

Granger hadn't said a word to him, choosing to shoot daggers at the table rather than look in his direction, but Ginevra had no qualms with glowering at him directly. He wished he felt more regret for what he'd done to her than he did, but most of his negative feelings about the situation centered entirely on Harry and what the act had done to him. She'd brought her own fate upon her head, and Draco wagered that if he hadn't been the one she cheated with, eventually someone would have taken his place in her marital bed.

His counselor had assured him of the same thing, though not without chastising him thoroughly for his transgressions. In hindsight he would have found another way into Harry's heart, but what was done was done and now all Draco could do was try to make amends.

-------------------------------------------

_Draco,_

_My waiter today reminded me of you. He had the most thrilling gray eyes and his hair was blond, though admittedly it fell short of your own perfectly platinum locks. He was also a bit of an arse like you. Perhaps I should get his number and call him up for drinks tonight. What do you think?_

_Tell Allen that I've been in a terrible accident and died a horribly tragic death. Or tell him I went on vacation. You pick. _

_Always,_

_Harry_

Harry had been mostly joking about the waiter. He existed of course, but Harry had no intention of approaching the man, he simply wanted to tease Draco with the idea to see how he'd react. There had been a few propositions thrown his way, but Harry had deftly turned down each and every one. Part of him hoped that Draco might join him one weekend, so that they could spend some time wrapped in one another's arms. He fantasized about it often, but worried how a suggestion like that might be received. He hadn't truly forgiven the blond, not entirely, and he felt like if he asked Draco to meet him somewhere, it might be misconstrued. He didn't want to lead the man along any more than he inadvertently had already, so he left the idea out of his letters and secretly hoped Draco would come up with it on his own.

----------------------------------------------

_Harry,_

_It's been months without a word from you. How are you? Well, I hope. Ron and I miss you so much! George and Angelina are finally engaged; Molly's having a fit over it. She's so happy. Ron is going a tad batty all alone at the Ministry and wants to know when you're coming back. Ginny's started dating a fellow from her office who seems nice enough, but he's not you of course. I haven't seen much of Malfoy, but I heard he's also dating someone else. Not sure who, but the papers have been rumbling about it. Did you two have a row? Is that why you left in such a hurry?_

_Teddy sends his love and we miss you dearly. _

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Harry had told Hermione and Ron that he was leaving, though only the day he planned to leave and only with a vague explanation as to why. He felt like rubbish that he hadn't thought to write to them before now, but every spare moment he had he used to write Draco instead. He'd purposefully crammed his days with activities and sightseeing so that he wouldn't have time to feel lonely or bored.

Unfortunately, and he realized this only too late, that also meant he didn't allow himself any time to think about his life, which was the main reason for fleeing London to start with.

During his travels he'd picked up a few trinkets for his friends and loved ones, most of which he'd give to them when he got back rather than sending them with an owl, but there was one person he didn't want waiting that long. He'd felt terrible about leaving his little Godson Teddy, even though he knew Andi and Draco would take excellent care of him, he felt guilty for staying away from the boy for so long.

Tying a green stuffed rabbit to his reply letter, he sent it along, back to Hermione, with his love.

-----------------------------------------------

_Hermione,_

_It's good to hear from you. I miss you, Ron and Teddy as well, but I doubt I'll be back home any time soon. I'm enjoying my time away to think about how I want my life to be. Make sure Teddy gets the toy I've sent with the owl. I got it in Italy and it's handmade. Give him lots of hugs and kisses for me as well. _

_It seems Ginny wastes no time. I've only just signed the divorce papers and she can't even wait for the ink to dry before she's trolling for someone knew? I suppose it shouldn't be any great surprise. She's just hopped from one arm to another all her life. (Don't tell Ron I said so.)_

_Are you sure about Draco seeing someone else? Let me know if you find out who it is or anything more definitive on that matter._

_Best regards,_

_Harry_

He could scarcely believe Ginny had already begun dating again. Harry supposed it wasn't his business any longer, but it still irked him that she had gotten away so lightly after tearing his life into shreds. Perhaps when he returned he'd boot her out of their old place – if she wasn't already holed up with the new bloke that is – but he really didn't want to live there. He'd rather sell the house and buy a new flat. Maybe with Draco. Although, the news about him dating someone else made him pause. Could Hermione be right? It wasn't like her to simply spread gossip without anything to back it up.

------------------------------------------------

_Harry,_

_I'm not amused. In fact, if you could see my face you'd be able to tell immediately just how amused I'm not. I trust you're not out and about seeking my replacement already (not that such a thing exists, of course). Still, it's not polite for you to lead these foreigners along that way._

_I told Allen that you'd perished suddenly in the middle of having glorious sex with me. How's that for a story?_

_Yours,_

_Draco_

Draco stared over and over at the letter before he sent it. Part of him was livid with Harry for even suggesting that he was planning to date another man, but the other part wondered if it might be a good thing if he did. Draco didn't want to be Harry's rebound after all, as Allen so crudely suggested that night. Perhaps it would be better if Harry had a brief, meaningless relationship with a passing foreigner, that way he and Draco could start over fresh.

Still, the thought of someone else touching and kissing his Gryffindor made his blood boil.

Telling Allen that little story had been quite amusing though. He'd known through Harry's other friends of course that Harry was simply traveling, but when Draco showed up in his office to describe the intoxicating lovemaking that had never actually happened, the look on Allen's face was quite priceless.

----------------------------------------------------

_Harry,_

_I'm quite sure about Malfoy. Witch Weekly has been reporting about his secretive activities and he's been seen around town with the same gentleman several times now. I'll let you know when I have more on that._

_Teddy loved the stuffed bunny, Harry. Andi says he sleeps with it every night. Miss you still!_

_Love,_

_Hermione_

Fueled by doubts, Harry balled up the latter and cast it aside, deciding to ask out that waiter after all. If Draco was back in London having fun without him, why shouldn't Harry have his own fun?

--------------------------------------------------

_Draco,_

_That was a particularly cringe-worthy pronouncement of death. How did he take it? Poorly I'd guess. _

_Who said I was leading anyone on? Phillipe happens to have been very lovely company, but I still miss you as odd as that sounds. _

_I'll be in Tokyo soon and very busy, so don't expect another Owl until I get to Wellington._

_Love,_

_Harry_

It would be another month before he heard from Harry if Draco had his itinerary correct. He couldn't believe Harry had left him with mentions of another man in his last letter to him for weeks! Surely he knew how cruel that was, leaving Draco to wonder if this _Phillipe_ had followed Harry to Tokyo, whether they'd just had dinner, or something more…satisfying than that. He wanted to pound Phillipe's face into the floor and he didn't even know the man.

-------------------------------------------------

_Harry,_

_You're dating? I thought you were on this trip to clear your head, not to muck it up with foreign trysts. Should I be dating too? Have you made up your mind already and are just afraid to tell me so?_

_Draco_

The letter was delayed on account of Post Owls not being allowed to fly in and out of Tokyo; something about the number of wizards living there and suspicious Owl congestion. Harry received it when he got to Wellington, and read it over and over again. Each time he felt a new emotion bubbling to the surface. Guilt for having hurt Draco over news of a date that never even happened, worry that the man had decided to move on before Harry even received his letter, and then anger that the man had the nerve to complain when in his other hand was a letter from Hermione with a photo of Draco sneaking into another man's house.

He stared at the incriminating photo of Draco obviously meeting with his new lover as he wrote his anger-fueled response to the blond. But, his fury dissipated and turned into regret the moment his Owl and Draco's letter flew out the window toward London.

--------------------------------------------------

_Malfoy,_

_It was one dinner with one bloke resulting in not much more than a mutual wank. It's far less than I hear you've already been up to with your steady bloke back in London. You've some nerve acting accusatory with me over a single date. _

_HJP_

Draco was furious. Who had been spreading lies about him to Harry? He supposed it could have been any number of people, but that didn't make it seem any more palatable. He'd remained true to Harry the entire time the man was gone, so he didn't know how anyone could possibly have any convincing arguments against his virtue. It was one thing for Rita Skeeter to print those vicious lies about him in the papers, but quite another for rumors like that to be spread otherwise. Ever since he'd started therapy, Draco had felt like a new man. He could finally look at himself and truly see his past mistakes, and understand why they'd had the consequences they did. Furthermore, he'd managed to reign in his outlandish Slytherin tendencies to turn everything into a game that he was determined to win. Potter was a prize, certainly, but he finally understood that Harry's love could not be won; it had to be earned.

While he was busy learning this, it seemed Harry was busy learning the feel of another's cock.

--------------------------------------------------

_Harry,_

_So, it's back to Malfoy now is it? And what are you talking about with the reference to a steady bloke I've been dating? I'm not dating anyone, steady or otherwise, and I resent rumors being leveled against me. I remain true to you and hold to hope that you'll return to me._

_Yours still,_

_Draco_

---------------------------------------------------

Harry didn't know if he believed the Slytherin and said as much in his next letter, to which he also enclosed a photo he'd pulled from a copy of Witch Weekly Hermione had sent him. It showed Draco at a function with his hand resting on another man's arm. Granted, the man was at least fifteen years his senior, but the photograph showed a very content Draco Malfoy regardless of the age difference between him and his date. Draco's response to Harry's letter was brief and curt, even the script was harried and angry looking.

_Potter,_

_If you think that I'm dating that man then you've gone mad during your trip. He's my therapist and has been helping me in the months since you've apparently abandoned me, not that you should require any explanation from me. It's been almost a year and you've yet to resurface in London. How am I supposed to take that?_

_D. Malfoy_

--------------------------------------------------

_Malfoy,_

_It was your bloody idea for me to leave. If you feel such animosity toward me, perhaps we should stop writing to one another altogether._

_HJP_

The only response Harry got to his last letter was a scribbled _'fine'_ – no signature, no parting words, just _'fine'_. He was in Cork, Ireland on his way back to London when he received that final missive and changed his plans. If he wasn't coming home to Draco, part of him didn't want to return to London at all.

Harry wrote a dozen apology letters but didn't Owl a single one. Instead he continued to send Draco updates on where he was, what hotel he was staying at and when he'd be traveling somewhere new. He had no idea if Draco even read them, because he would only write back with tightly scrawled messages like _'How nice for you'_, and _'I'm sure you'll enjoy that much more than coming back home_'.

He knew he should head back to London, he'd certainly seen more of the world than he'd ever expected and he missed his friends and Teddy desperately. Still, something kept him away, kept him fleeing the old city he used to call home. Deep down he knew he was afraid, afraid that he would get back and find that Draco had moved on. Afraid that the blond, tired of being strung along, would have found himself a suitable replacement and settled down.

It was that fear that sent him into the arms of Trevor Macintosh, a bloke he'd met in New York. They had enjoyed a month long romance, but Harry still felt the almost imperceptible tug back toward London, and on the days he was willing to admit it, back toward Draco. One evening at dinner, Trevor had offered to try and relocate to London, apparently sensing that Harry was homesick even when Harry himself did not. He'd broken up with Trevor on the spot, realizing that he couldn't get over Draco Malfoy from a distance and he refused to string another innocent man along while he was still hung up on the blond. He needed closure, needed to see for himself that Draco had moved on without him.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Harry sat somewhere in Central Park, his back propped up against the trunk of a thin tree as he watched people walk their dogs, listen to headphones, and go on their daily runs all around him. He'd been away from London for over a year and his heart was sick for it. After his break from Trevor, he'd resolved to go back, in fact, his Portkey was scheduled to leave later that same day. He only had one final letter from Malfoy, one he'd gotten earlier in the week and refused to open for fear it would keep him from returning home. He sat there, wringing it in his hands as he stared at the yellowed parchment, finally wrenching it open with so much force he nearly ripped it in two.

_Potter,_

_It seems you have no intention of returning, so I suppose this is my official goodbye. _

_Goodbye, Harry. I wish you could have loved me. _

_Draco A. Malfoy_

Harry swallowed past his pain and folded the paper into a neat little square, shoving it deep within the confines of his woolen coat. He had missed his opportunity and it was his own bloody fault. Here he was dragging his arse around the world when Draco had been back home patiently waiting for him. He never should have left; his life might just be more of a mess now than it ever was before.

--------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Don't you guys just hate me? I would too if I were you.


	15. Moving On

Author's Note: Many thanks to the recently elusive Laurel for her beta of this chapter. It's brief, but exactly what I've been planning for this story since the earlier shifts and changes in the plot.

Chapter 15 Moving On

"I'm selling the flat."

"You're what?" Ginny asked incredulously.

Harry was bone weary from his Portkey trip back to London and normally would have gone straight to bed, but he'd decided to take care of one of the many epiphanies he'd had on his extended vacation right then or else he feared he might never do it.

"I'm selling the flat," he repeated leaning against the stoop. He hadn't bothered with a 'hullo' or any other manner of pleasantry before simply getting to his point. He and Ginny were long past idle chitchat by now. "Mione tells me you're with someone new, pregnant even," he added, pointing to the already visible lump beneath her blouse. "I think it's time you moved on from here."

"But I like it here, I picked the flat out to start with," she grumbled. "Are you trying to prove something by booting me out now? Is this some petty revenge?"

"I'm not being petty," Harry replied. "I'm tired of getting Owls about this place, it's just one more reminder I don't need that my life went awry. If you want to keep living here, you'll have to buy it from me. I'll be reasonable, but I don't want it in my name anymore."

"Harry," she began to protest but Harry held up his hand, firmly halting her speech.

"I should have done this from the start," he told her. "I was too shocked by what you'd done and I avoided this confrontation for long enough. You've been only too ready to take advantage of my kindness and it stops now. For the first time in my life, I'm ready to start over. I don't need old ghosts haunting me." His body and eyes betrayed the strength in his words better than the words themselves, because Ginny nodded solemnly and sighed.

"If you'll draw up the paperwork for what you want for it, I'll talk to Stephen and see what we'd like to do." Harry was glad she wasn't going to argue the point. He hadn't wanted to be cruel, but he would be if it got this property out of his name and off of his mind. Most of his friends thought he was barmy for not evicting her from the start, but he loved Ginny, no matter how much she'd hurt him, and he wasn't going to refuse her a place to live. That just wasn't his way, but she had a new man to provide for her now, and that title was no longer Harry's.

With a nod, Harry left the landing to their old house, hoping it might be the last time. He doubt he'd ever feel the urge to stop by for tea anytime soon and ventured to guess that he'd only see Ginny again when at the Weasley's.

Hermione was next on his list. She'd stirred up quite a bit of trouble from afar, but Harry knew some of it was to try and persuade Harry to come back, though her lawyer mind had twisted the good intentions into something hurtful. Still, she was his oldest and dearest friend and they both knew he would eventually forgive her anything, same as he always had with Ron.

One of these days, Harry hoped to add someone else to his short list of people he could count on implicitly, but now wasn't the time to think about the future. He was too busy trying to repair the past.

------------------------------------------------------------

Draco stared down at the immense pile of crumpled balls of parchment on his floor and sighed. Most were letters he'd written and then rewritten to Potter, trying to explain his feelings in words that would not contain them. The rest were Potter's letters to him written throughout his many months of traveling and being…away. Word had come to him of Harry's affair with a man in New York, Britain had not given up watching for movement from their savior even though he was on the other side of the world. Photos were snapped and printed in every wizarding paper, stabbing through Draco's heart like a crudely made shiv. Still, as much as it pained him to see it, he felt a bittersweet relief for Harry's contentment, and deep down he hoped it was more.

He wanted Harry to be happy, even if it wasn't going to be with him.

When he told his therapist that, the man dismissed him from his care and sent Draco along to make his own way in the world. "You still have some work to do on yourself and your own self-worth, but I think that there is no more that can be learned from me. The rest is up to you," he'd said at their parting.

Perhaps, after the many years since officially coming of age, he was finally growing up. He supposed it was too late for him and Potter, but perhaps there was someone else out there for him who could make him just as happy as he hoped Harry might, and fill him with as much joy.

The photo he'd coyly taken at the ball, the first day he realized Harry was his one, still occupied the same frame on his desk, but it soon joined the jumbled assortment of papers on the floor. He banished it all to the fireplace and stared at it cheerlessly. It was rather sad that the culmination of his and Harry's relationship, if it could even be called that, could all be fit in a small, stone hearth. Hardly anything tangible happened between them, yet he couldn't seem to think of anyone else.

He hoped the Incendio would help to ease Potter from his mind somewhat, and it seemed to work. As he watched the orange flames lick up and around his scattered obsession, Draco finally began to feel a sense of peace wash over him. Harry was happy and he would be too. He held to hope, and hope would take him far.

Atonement was something he had sought, and he felt certain he had achieved it in these long months. When he thought on it, he was forced to admit that he'd never really known Potter very well. He observed him, he assumed things about him, but he never really _knew_ him. Not as a friend, or a lover, or anything that mattered. His biggest regret was not that he'd failed to procure Harry's love, but that he'd missed the chance to truly learn about a man, who was by all accounts, a fascinating and complex individual who could have well complimented Draco and his goals in life.

There would be others, Draco felt confident of that. Even now, people were writing in to Witch Weekly to find out how to contact him because of an interview he'd given. Letters were forwarded to him daily with everything from dinner invitations to marriage proposals, and even if none of them suited him as well as Potter might have, someone was bound to be a fine match for him. This time he wouldn't ruin it. This time he would go about courtship in a _proper _manner.

He smiled wryly to himself as he thought about the last few years and the gigantic mess he'd made of things in the process of chasing his obsession. He'd been out of his head. Draco never did go after what he wanted through the usual channels, but what he'd done had been unspeakable. He should have had himself committed the moment he thought shagging a Weasley as a viable option to win Potter over. The man was right to move on, right to seek the heart of someone who wasn't such a loose and unpredictable cannon.

But now that he knew of his mistakes, now that he could see his errors in the full light of day, he felt he might be allowed to move beyond this and into a happier time. As the mementos of his past delusions turned to ashes before his very eyes, he felt that mad part of himself disengage and leave him behind.

'_Good riddance,'_ he thought.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been almost twelve hours since Harry arrived back in London. He was still feeling a bit Portlagged and was craving coffee – a nasty habit he'd picked up on his travels, and he hadn't yet been to bed. As he wandered the streets of wizarding London for somewhere to indulge his craving, he ran across a rack of magazines. A familiar face stared out at him from the cover of _Witch Weekly_ and Harry reached out, gently touching the papery cheek of Draco Malfoy. He tucked a copy of the magazine under his arm and flipped a coin to the man selling them with a nod before heading further into Diagon Alley.

He decided to stop at Camilla's for coffee, grabbing a seat in a shadowy corner of the sparsely populated cafe. Pulling out the magazine, Harry stared down into the piercing gray eyes on the cover, knowing full well that they were far more potent in person. He just couldn't seem to pull his gaze away from those eyes until he caught the headline in his peripheral.

'_Europe's most eligible bachelor back on the market.'_

His heart dropped as he read the words, a not-so-subtle announcement that everything between Draco and Harry had gone south and that the blond was now perusing new suitors. It served Harry right, and perhaps it was for the best. It was a sick thing for him to have even entertained the idea of dating Draco Malfoy, his stalker, ruiner of his marriage, and otherwise dishonest bloke.

He thought briefly of Allen, which he hadn't done since he left London more than a year ago; he supposed the fact that the Australian had been far from his mind that whole time spoke plenty in and of itself. His desire to be with Allen had proven a passing fancy, and perhaps if things had worked out originally, they might have been happy together, but just like where things stood with Draco, Harry would never know for certain and tried very hard not to live in the 'what if'.

Yes, it was definitely a good thing that Draco had chosen to move on, it would make things that much easier for Harry to do the same. Harry acknowledged that Hermione was trying to stir things up from afar and he properly reprimanded her for it the moment he got back, but their separation was about more than that. Harry had his own doubts about how a relationship between someone like himself and someone like Malfoy would ever work out. It was probably better to just avoid it altogether than to start things up and then have them end as tragically as they had for him and Ginny.

He realized the moment he set eyes on little Teddy, snuggled tightly in his bed at Andi's, that he'd been doing just that. Avoiding. Hiding. Running. A part of him thought that he could just skip over love altogether and avoid all the pain that came along with it. What good was love anyhow if it only left you broken in the end? Harry could break himself quite easily without anyone's assistance, least of all Draco's. The blond had the power to crush him with a mere bending of his pinky; such was the hypnotic power Draco seemed to have over him.

Harry didn't even begin to try to understand it, he just knew innately that those feelings would always be there lurking just under the surface. He'd proven as much with the paper in his lap. Just the sight of Malfoy's face on the cover had made his entire body respond. It was pathetic.

But it didn't matter. Draco had moved on and so should he.

Quickly discarding the magazine in the closest rubbish bin, Harry set out with his coffee in hand. One of these days he'd have to stop running and hold to hope that someone worthwhile would be there waiting for him.

"Watch it," balked a deep voice from behind him and Harry whirled to apologize, only to be met by the same dazzling gray eyes that often haunted his dreams. "Harry? When did you get back?"

"A few hours ago," he admitted bashfully. Just seeing the blond standing there filled him with warmth and all he wanted to do was leap across the sidewalk and snog him senseless. He leaned in slightly and breathed the other man in. He hadn't realized how much a person could miss a scent until now.

"Well, I'm sure you have a lot to take care of since you only just got back. I'll leave you to it," Draco replied, tilting his head slightly as he turned away.

Harry reached out and clutched Draco's arm, holding it firmly and refusing to let go. He was tired of running, he was tired of hiding. He wanted to find love now. "Do you think you might," he began, taking a deep breath and expelling it slowly before starting again. "Do you think you might like to have dinner with me?"

"Dinner?" Draco asked blandly. "After everything, you want to have dinner with me?"

"Yes," Harry replied confidently, loosening his grasp on Draco's arm only slightly. The blond looked down at Harry's hand and then up at his face several times, looking quite conflicted. Harry could see how torn he was between accepting and refusing, but eventually he nodded, a subtle smile playing on his pink lips that filled Harry with relief.

"Alright," he confirmed at last and Harry's heart thrummed a little heavier in his chest at the blond's acceptance. "Tonight?"

Harry nodded vigorously, letting go of the breath he'd been holding. He'd invite him to breakfast right that moment if he hadn't thought it was too presumptuous. "Or we could go to breakfast now," he suggested anyway, damning the consequences of his eagerness. He didn't want to part with the man again just yet.

His reward was a grin, one of the most enchanting and beautiful grin's he'd ever seen on that cool and stunning face. "How about both?"

"I think both sounds perfect," Harry replied in a soft whisper, lacing his fingers through Draco's as they set off.

He had no idea where breakfast would lead, or where dinner would take them, or whether or not they would even speak to one another afterward, but for the first time in a long time, Harry found himself not worrying about it. The past was the past, long forgotten, and he was finally coming around to forgiveness.

Maybe it was too late, or maybe it was just in the nick of time.

Only time would tell.

Author's Note: So, that's it. The End. Yes, I'm aware it doesn't ring with the same finality that most of my stories do, but I thought that was more fitting for this pair. They've been on different train tracks all along, and I can't see far enough into their future to see if they stay that way, or if their tracks eventually merge. I'd like to think that they stay together, but maybe they don't. Demons have a way of sneaking up on a couple long after they were locked away. I had a lot of fun writing this story, especially since it was so outside my norm. I told a few of you that it wouldn't have a happy ending, but it wouldn't be unhappy either. I think this is filled with just the right amount of hope and you all can decide for yourself what happens to them from this point. ;)


End file.
